For Money.—Chapters I-IV [pp. 25-39]

For Money.
"You have the theory complete; supposing the end of life is marriage," observed
Louise. "Are there any marriages with all
the drawbacks you have told me about? I
want to be prepared."
"Oh, yes; some poor girls become intimnate with rich ones, and the friendship
throws a glamor over them, so that they often
do better matrimonially speaking than the
rich friends they have been using; but that
takes a great deal of finesse, and it isn't sure
to be successful."
"What makes you such a cynic?" said
Louise.
"God knows I have less reason than most
men to be cynical," he answered, with an expression in his eyes that Louise liked.
"There are some wonderful, saving exceptions; I have known them; they keep-"
Here Mrs. Valentine rose and left the table with her flock. They wandered about
the grounds a little, for the day was too
lovely to stay in-doors, and Louise again
found herself relegated to Mrs. Valentine,
for she was too proud to join the groups that
seemed complete without her.
"Oh, Mr. Waring," called Mrs. Valentine,
as the gentlemen finally made their appearance; "we all want to see the house. You
know you have the reputation of owning the
comipletest house in California, and we want
to go over it. Will you take us?"
"Nothing I should like better," said Mr.
WVaring, expansively; "only I'm not much
used to doing the honors in this sort of
thing. The dining room, I think, you have
all seen enough of for the present, so we'll
leave that out."
He led the way from room to room, each
as beautiful as the other in its own appro priate way, and the views from the rooms up stairs, all different, had a variety not often
attained from one spot of ground.
They all crowded out on a veranda, when
Mr. Waring said to Mrs. Valentine in a voice
loud enough for all to hear:
"Where's Miss Lennard? Is she lost?
Keep them all here until I bring her back,
and then we must start for the train."
He found Louise standing in the deep em
brasure of a window, in one of the upper
rooms, that looked out on the mountain.
The severe, placid face that lies upturned to
the sky, crowning the mountain, Nature's giant sculpture, stood out in bold relief against
the deep blue enamel of a Californian summer sky, surrounded by its subject hills; and
Louise stood alone, absorbed in it, freed for
a moment from oppressive human presence,
strengthened by the grandeur and silence of
the eternal hills for the endurance of small
pin-pricks, that once or twice today already
had brought her near to tears of disappointment and wounded self esteem. The reality
had been so different from her joyous expectations.
Mr. Waring paused a moment before he
addressed her, involuntarily stilled by the
calm pleasure he saw in her sensitive face.
Then he came close to her, and said:
"How does all this please you?"
She did not start; her mood was too
peaceful. She only turned her quiet eyes
on him, and answered gently
"Very, very much."
"Do you like it? Does it satisfy you?"
"Satisfy me?" she echoed, half annoyed.
Was the man never easy unless his posses sions were being praised? But he was her
host, so she answered with a smile:
"I should think a person must be very
stupid, not to be perfectly delighted with
everything about it. It is simply perfection.
Nobody with any taste could suggest a sin gle change."
He came a step nearer, and said in a
lower voice.
"Does it suit you? Would you like it
for yours?"
Now she was startled in good earnest,
and looked him in the face for one fright ened second. She tried to speak, and put
out a trembling little hand, that he took and
held in both of his while he spoke again.
"Everything shall be yours, my child, if
you will take its owner with it."
"Oh, don't ask it! I never dreamed of
aaything like this, indeed!" Louise forced
her dry lips to articulate; while her breath
came so fast, and her voice was so low, that
38
[Jan.