ed to swell and throb
within her veins. She was possessed of an overpowering desire to do
something now, this moment, to try the power of her wealth.

Near her on the richly papered wall was a little button. She could touch
this and order--what should she order? A carriage and prancing pair to
take her to drive? She did not wish to drive. A cab to take her to the
shops, or an order to merchants to send her samples of their wares that
here, in her own room, like a queen or a princess, she might choose what
she wanted and think nothing of the cost? But no, she did not wish to
buy anything. She had purchased in Paris everything that she cared to
carry to Plainton.

She went and stood by the electric button. She must touch it, and must
have something! Her gold must give her an instant proof that it could
minister to her desires, but what should she ask for? Her mind travelled
over the whole field of the desirable, and yet not one salient object
presented itself. There was absolutely nothing that she could think of
that she wished to ask for at that moment. She was like a poor girl in
a fairy tale to whom the good fairy comes and asks her to make one wish
and it shall be granted, and who stands hesitating and trembling, not
being able to decide what is the one great thing for which she should
ask.

So stood Mrs. Cliff. There was a fairy, a powerful fairy, in her service
who could give her anything she desired, and with all her heart she
wanted to want something that minute. What should she want?

In her agitation she touched the bell. Half frightened at what she had
done, she stepped back and sat down. In a few minutes there was a knock,
the door opened, a servant entered. "Bring me a cup of tea," said Mrs.
Cliff.

CHAPTER II

WILLY CROUP DOESN'T KNOW

The next afternoon as the train approached Plainton, Mrs. Cliff found
herself a great deal agitated as she thought of the platform at the
station. Who would be there,--how should she be met? With all her heart
she hoped that there would not be anything like a formal reception, and
yet this was not improbable. Everybody knew she was coming; everybody
knew by what train she would arrive. She had written to Willy Croup, and
she was very sure that everybody knew everything that she had written.
More than this, everybody knew that she was coming home rich. How rich
they were not aware, because she had not gone into particulars on this
subject, but they knew that th