power and those who rise to it from obscurity resolves
itself to little more than the difference between those
born mad and those who go insane.

Looking at the little man with the disagreeable eyes,
so dull yet so shrewd, Mildred saw that within the
drunkard who could scarcely sit straight upon the richly
upholstered and carved gilt chair there was another person,
coldly sober, calmly calculating. And she realized
that it was this person with whom she was about to
have the most serious conversation of her life thus far.

The drunkard smiled with a repulsive wiping and
smacking of the thin, sensual lips. ``I suppose you
know why I had you brought here this evening?'' said
he.

Mildred looked and waited.

``I didn't intend to say anything to-night. In fact,
I didn't expect to find in you what I've been looking
for. I thought that old fool of a stepfather of yours
was cracking up his goods beyond their merits. But
he wasn't. My dear, you suit me from the ground
up. I've been looking you over carefully. You were
made for the place I want to fill.''

Mildred had lowered her eyes. Her face had become
deathly pale. ``I feel faint,'' she murmured. ``It is
very warm here.''