right,
she'll have more of everything that women want than any woman in the
world. I'd take a pride in my wife. There isn't anything I wouldn't
spend in showing her off to advantage. And I'm willing to be liberal
with her mother, too."

Presbury had been hoping for this. His eyes sparkled. "You're a
prince, General," he said. "A genuine prince. You know how to do
things right."

"I flatter myself I do," said the general. "I've been up and down the
world, and I tell you most of the kings live cheap beside me. And when
I get a wife worth showing of, I'll do still better. I've got
wonderful creative ability. There isn't anything I can't and won't
buy."

Presbury noted uneasily how cold and straight, how obviously repelled
and repelling the girl was as she yielded her fingers to Siddall at the
leave-taking. He and her mother covered the silence and ice with hot
and voluble sycophantry. They might have spared themselves the
exertion. To Siddall Mildred was at her most fascinating when she was
thus "the lady and the queen." The final impression she made upon him
was the most favorable of all.

In the cab Mrs. Presbury talked out of the fullness of an overflowing
heart. "What a remarkable man the general is!" said she. "You've only
to look at him to realize that you're in the presence of a really
superior person. And what tact he has!--and how generous he is!--and
how beautifully he entertains! So much dignity--so much simplicity--so
much--"

"Fiddlesticks!" interrupted Presbury. "Your daughter isn't a damn
fool, Mrs. Presbury."

Mildred gave a short, dry laugh.

Up flared her mother. "I mean every word I said!" cried she. "If I
hadn't admired and appreciated him, I'd certainly not have acted as I
did. _I_ couldn't stoop to such hypocrisy."

"Fiddlesticks!" sneered Presbury. "Bill Siddall is a horror. His
house is a horror. His dinner was a horror. These loathsome rich
people! They're ruining the world--as they always have. They're
making it impossible for anyone to get good service or good food or
good furniture or good clothing or good anything. They don't know good
things, and they pay exorbitant prices for showy trash, for crude
vulgar luxury. They corrupt taste. They make everyone round them or
near them sycophants and cheats. They substitute money for
intelligence and discrimination. They degrade every fine thing in life.
Civilization is built up by brains and hard work, and alon