The same germ of greatness in these Gorgeous Girls as in their fathers frequently causes them to produce good results in the lives of those they apparently harm. As in Steve's case--he found his ultimate salvation not so much by Mary Faithful's love and service as by realizing the Gorgeous Girl's shallow tragedy. With iron wills concealed behind childish faces and misdirected energy searching for novelty, so the Gorgeous Girls stand to-day a deluxe monument to the failure of their adoring, check-bestowing, shortsighted parents. They are neither salamanders nor vampires. Steve had not spoken truly. They are more chaste and generous of heart than the former, more aloof from sordid things than the latter. Wonderful, curious little creatures with frail, tempting physiques and virile endurance, playing whatever game is handy without remorse and without vicious intent just as long as it interests them--in the same careless fashion their fathers stoked an engine or became a baker's assistant as long as it proved advantageous. Moreover, they are so apart from the workaday world that it is impossible to refrain from thinking of them in unwise fashion--even after life has fallen into pleasant channels and the dearly beloved of all the world is by one's side. So strong yet so weak, so tantalizing yet generous, they have the power to haunt at strange intervals and in strange fashion. So it was with Steve. He could not experience a storm of definite reproach at the thought of Beatrice--nor bitter hatred. Only a vague, lonesome urge, which soon dulled beside the sharp commands of common sense. It was only Mary who was done with visions and could give herself unreservedly to the making of her home, the rearing of her family. But Mary had realized her vision--not relinquished it. THE END THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS GARDEN CITY, N. Y.