try to make her change her mind," he added
with the same spirit he had once displayed toward winning the Gorgeous
Girl. "Only this time I shall not bargain for her."

Beatrice gave an affected laugh. "Quite a satisfactory arrangement all
round. I hope you do not bother me again. Tell my father what you
like, and then take yourself off to the new position and do as you
please. When I decide what course I shall pursue you will be
informed. Would you please pick up my prayer book?" she added,
languidly.

Steve bent over to grasp the intricate nothing in his hand and lay it
gently in the sapphire-velvet lap.

"Good-bye, Beatrice," he said, a trifle sadly--for the day the child
discovers there are no fairies is one of sadness.

It was something of this Steve felt as he looked at his wife for the
last time. How thrilled and adoring he would have one time been. Just
such visions, a trifle cruder no doubt, had stirred his young soul in
the bleak orphanage days--the boo'ful princess and the valiant young
hero chaining the seven-headed dragon. And in America it was just
bound to have come true!

"Good-bye, Stevuns," she answered, in the same gay voice--but a trifle
forced if one knew her well. "I hope you have a wonderful time leading
a mob somewhere and your wife selling your photographs on the next
corner curbstone!"

She pretended to become interested in the prayer book; and, with the
Pom shooing him out by sharp, ear-piercing barks, Steve left the
room.

CHAPTER XXIII

Not an hour later Mrs. Stephen O'Valley's card was taken in to Mary
Faithful as she sat trying to work in the new office--it never ceased
to be new to her. She had heard the swift rumours of Steve's failure.
Understanding that the visitor's card had a deeper significance than
the messenger who delivered it realized, Mary closed the outer doors
of her office and waited for her guest.

It was a very Gorgeous Girl who swept serenely into the room and lost
no time in introducing the nature of her errand.

"I don't know how well informed you are in business reports," she
began in her high-pitched voice, "but perhaps you have heard----"

"The report of the new leather trust--without including your husband's
factory? Yes--but it was bound to come. I always told him so."

Beatrice lost sight of the business introduction she had so carefully
planned while dressing and then driving downtown.

"You have told my husband a great many things, haven'