an abundance of Gorgeous
Girls these days there are seldom enough Mary Faithfuls to go round.

But he would never tell even his nearest and dearest of the visions.
This would be Steve's one secret.

And as Steve thought sometimes of the Gorgeous Girl in copper-coloured
tulle and with a dancing bodyguard, or in white fur coats being
halfway carried into her motor car, so would the Gorgeous Girl
sometimes find Gay and his simpering servility quite beside her own
thoughts. Once more she would see Steve, young and flushed with a
lover's dream!

The same germ of greatness in these Gorgeous Girls as in their fathers
frequently causes them to produce good results in the lives of those
they apparently harm. As in Steve's case--he found his ultimate
salvation not so much by Mary Faithful's love and service as by
realizing the Gorgeous Girl's shallow tragedy. With iron wills
concealed behind childish faces and misdirected energy searching for
novelty, so the Gorgeous Girls stand to-day a deluxe monument to the
failure of their adoring, check-bestowing, shortsighted parents. They
are neither salamanders nor vampires. Steve had not spoken truly. They
are more chaste and generous of heart than the former, more aloof from
sordid things than the latter. Wonderful, curious little creatures
with frail, tempting physiques and virile endurance, playing whatever
game is handy without remorse and without vicious intent just as long
as it interests them--in the same careless fashion their fathers
stoked an engine or became a baker's assistant as long as it proved
advantageous.

Moreover, they are so apart from the workaday world that it is
impossible to refrain from thinking of them in unwise fashion--even
after life has fallen into pleasant channels and the dearly beloved of
all the world is by one's side. So strong yet so weak, so tantalizing
yet generous, they have the power to haunt at strange intervals and in
strange fashion. So it was with Steve. He could not experience a storm
of definite reproach at the thought of Beatrice--nor bitter hatred.
Only a vague, lonesome urge, which soon dulled beside the sharp
commands of common sense.

It was only Mary who was done with visions and could give herself
unreservedly to the making of her home, the rearing of her family. But
Mary had realized her vision--not relinquished it.

THE END

THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS

GARDEN CITY, N. Y.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE