"Of course I do. I dare to tell you the truth, which no one else has ever taken the pains to tell you. If you do not get a divorce I intend to. Not that I champion the custom as a particularly healthy institution, but it is sometimes a necessary one. If it is any satisfaction to you I do not think Miss Faithful has the slightest idea of marrying me. She has put that part of her aside for business and taking care of Luke. The time has passed when she would have married me. Still, I shall try to make her change her mind," he added with the same spirit he had once displayed toward winning the Gorgeous Girl. "Only this time I shall not bargain for her." Beatrice gave an affected laugh. "Quite a satisfactory arrangement all round. I hope you do not bother me again. Tell my father what you like, and then take yourself off to the new position and do as you please. When I decide what course I shall pursue you will be informed. Would you please pick up my prayer book?" she added, languidly. Steve bent over to grasp the intricate nothing in his hand and lay it gently in the sapphire-velvet lap. "Good-bye, Beatrice," he said, a trifle sadly--for the day the child discovers there are no fairies is one of sadness. It was something of this Steve felt as he looked at his wife for the last time. How thrilled and adoring he would have one time been. Just such visions, a trifle cruder no doubt, had stirred his young soul in the bleak orphanage days--the boo'ful princess and the valiant young hero chaining the seven-headed dragon. And in America it was just bound to have come true! "Good-bye, Stevuns," she answered, in the same gay voice--but a trifle forced if one knew her well. "I hope you have a wonderful time leading a mob somewhere and your wife selling your photographs on the next corner curbstone!" She pretended to become interested in the prayer book; and, with the Pom shooing him out by sharp, ear-piercing barks, Steve left the room. CHAPTER XXIII Not an hour later Mrs. Stephen O'Valley's card was taken in to Mary Faithful as she sat trying to work in the new office--it never ceased to be new to her. She had heard the swift rumours of Steve's failure. Understanding that the visitor's card had a deeper significance than the messenger who delivered it realized, Mary closed the outer doors of her office and waited for her guest. It was a very Gorgeous Girl who swept serenely into the room and lost no time in introducing the nature of her errand. "I don't know how well informed you are in business reports," she began in her high-pitched voice, "but perhaps you have heard----" "The report of the new leather trust--without including your husband's factory? Yes--but it was bound to come. I always told him so." Beatrice lost sight of the business introduction she had so carefully planned while dressing and then driving downtown.