, Lasca, you are a fortune girl!--this beautiful house, this dainty
jewel, that rich treasure, all this elegant snow, and sumptuous icebergs
and limitless sterility, and public bears and walruses, and noble
freedom and largeness and everybody's admiring eyes upon you, and
everybody's homage and respect at your command without the asking;
young, rich, beautiful, sought, courted, envied, not a requirement
unsatisfied, not a desire ungratified, nothing to wish for that you
cannot have--it is immeasurable good-fortune! I have seen myriads of
girls, but none of whom these extraordinary things could be truthfully
said but you alone. And you are worthy--worthy of it all, Lasca--I
believe it in my heart.'

It made her infinitely proud and happy to hear me say this, and she
thanked me over and over again for that closing remark, and her voice
and eyes showed that she was touched. Presently she said:

'Still, it is not all sunshine--there is a cloudy side. The burden of
wealth is a heavy one to bear. Sometimes I have doubted if it were not
better to be poor--at least not inordinately rich. It pains me to see
neighbouring tribesmen stare as they pass by, and overhear them say,
reverently, one to another, "There--that is she--the millionaire's
daughter!" And sometimes they say sorrowfully, "She is rolling in
fish-hooks, and I--I have nothing." It breaks my heart. When I was a
child and we were poor, we slept with the door open, if we chose, but
now--now we have to have a night-watchman. In those days my father
was gentle and courteous to all; but now he is austere and haughty and
cannot abide familiarity. Once his family were his sole thought, but now
he goes about thinking of his fish-hooks all the time. And his wealth
makes everybody cringing and obsequious to him. Formerly nobody laughed
at his jokes, they being always stale and far-fetched and poor, and
destitute of the one element that can really justify a joke--the element
of humour; but now everybody laughs and cackles at these dismal things,
and if any fails to do it my father is deeply displeased, and shows it.
Formerly his opinion was not sought upon any matter and was not valuable
when he volunteered it; it has that infirmity yet, but, nevertheless,
it is sought by all and applauded by all--and he helps do the applauding
himself, having no true delicacy and a plentiful want of tact. He has
lowered the tone of all our tribe. Once they were a frank and manly
race, now the