"Not at all! nor do these common men, even though they did begin poor, who have acquired millions by speculation. They but make themselves and their sycophants ridiculous. No, I mean honest commerce--buying and selling real commodities at a fair profit--establishing new industries--developing situations--taking advantage of Nature’s beginnings. Such thoughts as these are the only things in life which really thrill me." "I understand you," said St. Quentin, "but I fear your wish will never come true. Years ago I held similar desires. All my plans fell through. I had too much money. And so have you. You’ll have to go on being a millionairess, whether you will or no, and you’ll marry another millionaire and eat and drink more than is good for you and lose your complexion and your waist line and end your life a dowager in black velvet and diamonds." A messenger boy entered and handed a telegram to Sherman Lee, just as Melba rose from her straw pallet and led the glorious finale to "Faust." Her brother leaned over and touched her arm. "You may get your infernal wish sooner than you expected," he said, with a wry smile twisting his pale face. Carolina turned to St. Quentin with indifference. "Possibly I may yet keep my waist line," she said, as he laid her cloak on her shoulders. On the way out she came face to face with the tall young man who had stood through the whole opera, in the balcony. He gave back all her interest in him in the one look he cast upon her loveliness. A sudden light of incredulous surprise dilated her eyes and a swift blush stained her cheeks. She recognized, in some intangible, unknown way, that he possessed kindred traits with her father and with herself. He had the same look in his eyes--or rather back of them, as if his eyes were only a hint of what lay hid in his soul. He was of their temperament. He dreamed the same dreams. He was akin to her. "I could have told him the truth," she whispered. "He would have understood that I meant Guildford all the time, and that the reason I want to be poor is so that I can show that I am willing to work, to carry out my father’s dearest wish. Just to spend money on it is too sordid and too easy. I want it to be made hard for me, just to show them what I will do! He would have understood!" But with one’s best friends it is as well to be on the defensive, and not let them know our true aims, lest they take advantage of their friendship and treat our heart’s dearest secrets with mockery. CHAPTER IV. THE TURN OF THE WHEEL