in Million's bedroom at the
"Refuge," all the time I was putting the finishing touches to her before
she went down to meet her cousin (and incidentally the man who was going
to rob her of her fortune), Mr. Hiram P. Jessop.

Well, she looked bonny enough to make him feel some compunction about
it, that I would say! The brown taffeta skirt and the new blouse, the
leaf-brown suede shoes and the silk stockings that I had brought down
with me, all suited her admirably.

And besides being becomingly dressed, there was something still more
potently attractive about Million's appearance.

It was that flush and glow and sparkle, that aura that seems to cling
about a woman in love. I had heard before that there is no beauty
culture in the world that can give a woman just that look and that it is
absolutely the most unfailing beautifier. Now I saw with my own dismayed
eyes that it was but too true.

Nellie Million, ex-maid-of-all-work, had fallen in love with Lord
Ballyneck's graceless younger son. The result, so far, was to improve
her looks as much as my hairdressing and the Bond Street shopping for
her had done already.

She was impatient to go down. This, I knew, was not on the new cousin's
account. Poor child, she wanted to rejoin the Honourable Jim!

"But you've got to come with me, Smith, you know," she said, as she
reached the door. "Yes, you have. You have got to introduce me, and be
bothered to your only being my lady's-maid! There isn't much of that
sort of thing at the 'Refuge,' as I can tell you. See how nice and
homely Vi Vassity was about having you sit down with all of us at
dinner?"

I suppressed a smile at the idea of this condescension.

"Besides, he seems to know you pretty well, does my cousin," said little
Miss Million. "And I tell you, Smith, you may be very useful. Talking to
him and keeping him out of the way when Mr. Burke might want to be
having a few words with me, do you see?"

I saw, and my heart sank with dismay. There were fearful complications
ahead. I saw myself later on with Miss Million sobbing over a world that
had crashed into disillusionment just as one of my Aunt Anastasia's
priceless Nankin bowls had once come to pieces in her hand!

Still, I thought, I had better go down and see with my own eyes as much
of the tragedy as it was possible. I thought that the first act of it
might be even rather humorous. Both these young men trying to talk to
Million at once, and Million herself