love myself better than
any stupid young man, and I mean to make myself happy. I couldn't be
happy without money, therefore money I must have, and if I find a man
who is ready and willing to give it to me, why on earth should I
refuse?"

The friend looked at the fair, delicately cut face with a pang of envy.

"You are so lovely, Claudia; you'll find him fast enough, and he'll
worship you, and think you a paragon of virtue. It _is_ unfair! A
plain-looking girl who would have loved him back, and been amiable and
devoted, would have no chance, whereas you will carry all before you.
It _is_ unfair!"

"Oh, I'll be quite sweet to him. I'll have to be, to keep him in a good
temper. I'll be wickedly extravagant, you see, like all _nouveaux
riches_, and I detest rows! Don't you worry about the man, dear. He'll
be happy enough. So long as I get all I want, I'm quite easy to live
with!"

"No one gets all one wants in life, Claudia," said the friend tritely.
"All the money in the world can't protect you from the troubles which
enter every life!"

"Perhaps not; but it can gild them! If I'm bound to have troubles, let
me have them _de luxe_. A million or two can make anything picturesque.
All the difference between sables and bombazine. Shouldn't I look
sweet, Meriel, as a widow, with a Marie Stuart bonnet and a cloak of
priceless sables? He might die, you know! You never can tell!"

Then Meriel had arisen and swept scornfully from the room, and Claudia
had laughed, and yawned, and gone to bed.

Several men proposed to Claudia during the next two years, only to be
rejected with a finality which left no ground for appeal, and then, soon
after the celebration of her twenty-fifth birthday, John Biggs appeared
upon the scene. He was neither a Maharajah nor a German Jew, and he
knew nothing whatever about soap-boiling. Probably in early years he
had hardly been better acquainted with soap itself! He was an
Australian by birth; a man of the people, who by a series of lucky
chances had first discovered a gold reef, and then secured it for his
own. A born fighter, he had experienced a delight in every step on the
road to success, which was strangely lacking when the summit was
reached. He was a multi-millionaire; he owned more money than he could
spend. The battle had been fought and won, and henceforth life
stretched before him barren of interest. He made his way to London, as
millionaires have a habit of doing