istence, no identity, no name; all would be merged in those millions.
He would never be given a friendship; he must purchase it. He would
never be given a woman's love; he must buy her love!

"Thus was I demon-haunted of my own gold," said Richard. "It seemed to
stand between me and all my heart went hungry for. That was my feeling;
I was galled of money. I determined to hide my wealth; I would discover
what friendships I might inspire, what loves I could attract, with only
the meager capital of my merit."

"Well," said Mr. Bayard dryly, "every man at some period must play the
fool. All's well that ends well; I shall follow your wishes concerning
Messrs. Harley, Hanway, Val, and Sands, attend your wedding, extend
congratulations, and salute the bride."

Mrs. Hanway-Harley, Mr. Harley, and Senator Hanway were duly informed of
those orange blossoms meditated by Dorothy for June. Bess, who still
retained her place as managing angel, pointed out the propriety of such
information. Bess said that Richard ought to break the news to the
Harleys and to Senator Hanway. But Richard's heart was weak; he
confessed his cowardice squarely. In his own defense he pleaded the
memory of his former interview with Mrs. Hanway-Harley; it was yet heavy
upon him, and he could summon no courage for another. Then Dorothy
became the heroine; she would inform Mrs. Hanway-Harley with her own
young lips. This she did, bearing herself the while with much love and
firmness, since Richard--quaking inwardly, but concealing his craven
condition from Dorothy--supported her throughout.

Mrs. Hanway-Harley surprised everybody with the moderate spirit in which
she received the word. True, her manner could not have been called
boisterously joyful, and indeed she made no pretense of the kind. She
kissed Dorothy; she would have kissed Richard had not that gentleman
plainly lacked the fortitude required for so embarrassing a ceremony.
Having pressed her maternal lips to Dorothy's forehead, Mrs.
Hanway-Harley remarked that it was good of the young lovers to bring
their plans to her. She realized, however, that it was no more than a
polite formality, for the affair long before had been taken out of her
hands. Her consent to their wedding would sound hollow, even ludicrous,
under the circumstances; still, such as it was, she freely granted it.
Her objection had been the poverty of Mr. Storms, and that objection was
disregarded. Mrs. Hanway-Harley could do no mor