“No, it isn’t rid of,” he corrected himself, “unless I burn up four hundred millions in securities. That is the worst of it,” he mused, rather gloomily. “I’m not rid of any, to speak of, except what I have actually given away.” And the young man put down a little resentfully the sense of estrangement and isolation which his unique problem and insular situation forced upon him. He persisted in his determination to guard jealously the secret of his wealth. He fancied he was still secure from real danger of discovery. Once or twice he had experienced some of the anxieties of a hunted criminal. The ardor with which the newspapers had pursued his secret added to his dread of the notoriety which would come with discovery. Let it not be imagined that this trait in Brent’s character was a singular and un-American whim. There is not an Astor, a Vanderbilt, or a Rockefeller who would not gladly sacrifice a great fortune from his possessions to escape from the isolation in which wealth has imprisoned him. The privilege of meeting one’s fellow-men upon a basis of sincerity is a boon quite unappreciated until wealth has taken it away. A man of many millions must do one of two things. Either he must build a wall about himself which he will permit no stranger and few of his so-called friends to pass, or he must arm himself with unrelenting suspicion and incredulity, until his waning faith in human nature almost disappears. If the true story of “How it Feels to be a Millionaire” should ever be written, it will contain chapters that will excite more commiseration than envy. The “poor millionaire” is not likely to become an object of popular pity and sympathy, but he is often not a bad fellow after all. An American cursed with the fame of many millions gained by his ancestors, said recently that from early youth his position had suggested to him that of an antique statue at the mercy of relic-hunters. His experience constantly deepened his impression, that nine out of ten of the people with whom he was brought in contact were armed each with hammer and chisel, ready to chip off a piece if they could get a chance. It was not so much from love of his wealth that he resisted most demands made upon him. It was because a man to whom money is a drug resented being wheedled and hoodwinked and swindled with just the same feelings that a poorer man might spend ten times the sum involved to recover an overcharge from a railroad company.