“It isn’t luxury, Miss Castleman. That’s nothing. You can buy a whole lot of luxury with no more money than I’ve got. But with van Tuiver it would be something else—something that not one woman in a million has offered to her. It’s power, its supremacy—it’s really what you called Royalty.” “And you thought that would buy me?” He sat watching her intently; he did not answer. “Tell me truly,” she said. “I won’t mind.” “No,” he said, “there’s something beyond that. I’ve read you, Miss Castleman, and I thought he’d get you this way—you’d think of all that could be done with his money. How many people you knew that you could help! How much good you could do in the world! You’d think of starving children to be fed, of sick children to be healed. You’d say, ‘I could make him do good with that money, and nobody else in the world could!’ That’s the way he’d get you, Miss Castleman!” Sylvia was gazing at him, fascinated. He saw a strange look in her eyes, and he felt, rather than saw, that she drew a long breath. “You see!” he said. “You _did_ have to be heroic!” So, when “Tubby” Bates took his departure, he held her hand longer than any of her other callers had been permitted to. “Dear Miss Castleman,” he said, “I’ll never forget you; and if you need a friend, count on me!” He went away, and Sylvia sat in her chair, gazing before her, deep in thought. There came a knock, and a note was brought in. She frowned before she looked at it—she had come to know where these notes came from. “My dear Miss Castleman,” it read, “I have just learned that you are going away. I implore you to give me one word. I stand ready to do all that you have asked me, and I throw myself on your mercy. I must see you once again.” For a moment Sylvia was frightened, wondering if she had a madman to deal with. Then she crumpled the paper in her hand, and going to the desk, seized a pen and wrote, with the swiftness of one enraged: “Mr. van Tuiver, I have asked you to do nothing. I wish you to do nothing. All you can accomplish is to inflict disagreeable notoriety upon me. I demand that you give up all thought of me. I am engaged to marry another man, and I will under no circumstances consent to see you again.” This note she sent down by the boy, and when Frank came for her with a motor-car, she kept him in the room and sent Aunt Varina down into the lobby to make sure that van Tuiver was not waiting there. Some instinct made her feel that she must not let the two men meet again. Also this gave her a little interval with Frank. She put her hands in his, exclaiming, “I’m so glad I’ve got you, Frank! Hurry up—get through with this place and come home!” “You didn’t like it here?” he smiled. “I’m glad I came,” she answered. “It’ll be good for me—I’ll be happier at home with you!” He took her gently in his arms, and she let him kiss her. “You really do love me!” he whispered. “I can’t understand it, but you really do!”