th slowly moving, sneering glance of ineffable
contempt.

In the drawing-room again Mildred, requested by Siddall and ordered by
Presbury, sang a little French song and then--at the urging of
Siddall--"Annie Laurie." Siddall was wiping his eyes when she turned
around. He said to Presbury:

"Take your wife into the conservatory to look at my orchids. I want to
say a word to your stepdaughter."

Mildred started up nervously. She saw how drunk the general was, saw
the expression of his face that a woman has to be innocent indeed not
to understand. She was afraid to be left alone with him. Presbury came
up to her, said rapidly, in a low tone:

"It's all right. He's got a high sense of what's due a respectable
woman of our class. He isn't as drunk as he looks and acts."

Having said which, he took his wife by the arm and pushed her into the
adjoining conservatory. Mildred reseated herself upon the inlaid
piano-bench. The little man, his face now shiny with the sweat of
drink and emotion, drew up a chair in front of her. He sat--and he was
almost as tall sitting as standing. He said graciously:

"Don't be afraid, my dear girl. I'm not that dangerous."

She lifted her eyes and looked at him. She tried to conceal her
aversion; she feared she was not succeeding. But she need not have
concerned herself about that. General Siddall, after the manner of very
rich men, could not conceive of anyone being less impressed with his
superiority in any way than he himself was. For years he had heard
only flatteries of himself--his own voice singing his praises, the
fawning voices of those he hired and of those hoping to get some
financial advantage. He could not have imagined a mere woman not being
overwhelmed by the prospect of his courting her. Nor would it have
entered his head that his money would be the chief, much less the only,
consideration with her. He had long since lost all point of view, and
believed that the adulation paid his wealth was evoked by his charms of
person, mind, and manner. Those who imagine this was evidence of folly
and weak-mindedness and extraordinary vanity show how little they know
human nature. The strongest head could not remain steady, the most
accurate eyes could not retain their measuring skill, in such an
environment as always completely envelops wealth and power. And the
much-talked-of difference between those born to wealth and power and
those who rise to it from obscurity