, was eagerly welcomed by a certain
section of society, and in the course of a few weeks met Miss Berrington
at a musical "At Home."

"Who's the Ogre?" asked Claudia of her companion as she watched the
entrance of the big, lumbering man, who still carried his dress clothes
with an air of discomfort. She shuddered daintily. "He looks like,
`The better to eat you, my dear.' Such teeth oughtn't to be _allowed_!
_Has_ he any eyes? They are so buried in fat that one can't see. It's
very inconsiderate of Lady Rollo to give us such shocks! If he comes
over here, I shall scream!"

"That's Biggs, the Australian millionaire, the third richest man in the
world, so they say. He _is_ an ugly beggar, and as glum as he's ugly.
Doesn't appear to get much fun out of his pile! There's no need to be
introduced to him, Miss Berrington, if you'd rather not. Shall we go
and hide in the conservatory?"

The speaker was a recent acquaintance, sufficiently under the spell of
Claudia's dimples to believe her everything that was disinterested and
simple. Her reply gave him a shock.

"A millionaire, is he? That covers a multitude of--teeth! I shan't
scream, after all. No; I don't want to hide. I've a penchant for
millionaires! I'll sit here and look pretty! How long do you give him,
Mr Bruce, before he asks for an introduction?"

Mr Bruce gave him ten minutes, but, as a matter of fact, it was only
seven and a half by the clock before the Ogre was bowing before the
Beauty's sofa, and being smilingly welcomed to a seat by her side. He
was portentously ugly! Claudia, regarding him with her long green eyes,
thought she had never before beheld so unattractive a man. "Flabby
dabby" was her not inappropriate mental definition, but the small grey
eyes looking out of the vast mass of flesh were disconcertingly keen and
alert. Claudia realised that her description did not apply to the man's
_mind_, however aptly it might fit his body.

As for John Biggs, no words could describe his admiration of this
wonderful new specimen of womanhood. Never in all his life had he
beheld anyone so fair, so exquisite, so ethereal. Her hair was like
threads of gold. The exquisite fineness and beauty of her complexion
was like that of a child. It seemed a miracle in the eyes of the big,
rough man that a grown-up woman should preserve such delicacy of charm.
Yet as they exchanged the first commonplaces of conversation there was
something in the ex