“Then I do not wonder that Heaven punished you by causing the man you wedded for his wealth to lose it, at the time in your life when you needed it most; though it is hard lines for poor papa!” “It is not for you to sit in judgment upon my actions!” cried Mrs. Trevalyn, angrily. “I won’t tolerate it. I knew what I was doing. Money is best.” “Love is best!” murmured Queenie, “and without it, all the wealth of the world is but dross,” and, as she uttered the words, her thoughts flew back to the lover whom she had left on the white sands, ere she had been taught that pitiful lesson, and she walked slowly from the room. Her mother watched her with darkening brows. “I thought I had brought that girl up to be sensible,” she ruminated; “but I find she is as foolish as the general run of girls. One thing is certain, she must marry rich, and such a marriage cannot take place too soon for my peace of mind! How quickly time flies; we have been home from Newport over a month now, and as yet Hiram Brown is the only wealthy suitor who has come forward for Queenie’s hand. The girl has changed, every one notices that; and all on account of that audacious fellow who dared to make love to her at Newport without so much as a dollar in his pocket. He has caught her heart in the rebound, it would seem. One never knows the true inwardness of a girl’s heart, anyway. “Of course, now that he is rich I would be glad enough to have him for a son-in-law; but his pride was cut too deeply when she sent him from her, ever to return to her again, and I now shrewdly suspect that Queenie is breaking her foolish heart in secret over it. And to make the matter worse, that book of his has taken the public like wildfire, and every one is talking of him now. He is not only rich, but famous, and could get his pick of all the society girls in New York, they’re so given up to hero worship. And in their eyes the handsome author of ‘Life as We Find It’ really is a hero. “But Queenie must not waste her time grieving over him. I must stop that nonsense, and at once; and the best way to accomplish that is to hasten Hiram Brown’s proposal--and her acceptance.” And thus she settled the matter in her own mind. To Queenie the continued silence of John Dinsmore was almost intolerable, but woman-like, her love for him grew under his seeming indifference and neglect, instead of abating. When the book from which he had hoped so much, and of which he had told her, was launched upon the tide, and instantly met with public favor, and it began to be spoken of everywhere, no one was prouder of it than Queenie. She longed to say to her girl friends: “The man who wrote it loves me, and asked me to be his wife,” then it suddenly dawned upon her that his love had been but transitory, he no longer loved her, or he would have returned to her at her bidding, and that thought was bitter as death to the proud heart of the girl, who now loved him with so mad and passionate a love.