riumph, in
making him love her, in winning her wager with that cynical Mr. Howard,
who boasted of his friend's invulnerability; and when she had
conquered, and gratified her vanity--Ah, well, it would be easy to step
aside and bring the curtain down upon her triumph and Stafford's
discomfiture. She would wear that Mr. Howard's ring, and every time she
looked at it, it should remind her of her conquest.

Stafford rowed on in silence for some minutes. His beautiful companion
did not seem to want him to talk and certainly showed no desire to talk
herself; so he gave himself up to thinking of Ida--and wishing that it
was she who was sitting opposite him there, instead of this girl with
the face of a Grecian goddess, with the lustrous hair of an houri. At
last, feeling that he ought to say something, he remarked, as he gazed
at the marvellous view:

"Very beautiful, isn't it?"

She raised her eyes and let them wander from the glittering water to
the glorious hills.

"Yes, I suppose it is. I'm afraid I don't appreciate scenery as much as
other people do. Perhaps it is because one is always expected to fall
into raptures over it. Does that shock you? I'm afraid I shock most
people. The fact is, I have been brought up in a circle which has
taught me to loathe sentiment. They were always gushing about their
feelings, but the only thing they cared for was money!"

"That ought to have made you loathe money," said Stafford, with a
smile, and a certain kind of interest; indeed, it was difficult not to
feel interested in this beautiful girl, with the face and the form of a
goddess, and, apparently, as small a capacity of emotion.

"Oh, no," she said, languidly; "on the contrary, it showed me the value
of money. I saw that if I had not been rich, the daughter of a rich
man, I should have been of no account in their eyes. They were always
professing to love me, but I was quite aware that it was because I was
rich enough to be able to buy pleasure for them."

"Unpleasant kind of people," remarked Stafford.

"No; just the average," she said, coolly. "Nearly all men and women are
alike--worldly, selfish, self-seeking. Look at my father," she went on,
as coolly as before. "He thinks of nothing but money; he has spent his
life fighting, scrambling, struggling for it; and look at yours--"

"Oh, hold on!" said Stafford, laughing, but reddening a little. "You're
very much mistaken if you think my father is that kind of man."

She s