working up to its climax. An observing looker-on might catch glimpses of
emotional scenes. Many of the passengers were already on board, parties
of them accompanied by their friends were making their way up the
gangplank.

Salter had just been watching a luxuriously cared-for little invalid
woman being carried on deck in a reclining chair, when his attention
was attracted by the sound of trampling hoofs and rolling wheels. Two
noticeably big and smart carriages had driven up to the stopping-place
for vehicles. They were gorgeously of the latest mode, and their tall,
satin-skinned horses jangled silver chains and stepped up to their
noses.

"Here come the Worthingtons, whosoever they may be," thought
Salter. "The fine up-standing young woman is, no doubt, the
multi-millionairess."

The fine, up-standing young woman WAS the multi-millionairess. Bettina
walked up the gangway in the sunshine, and the passengers upon the upper
deck craned their necks to look at her. Her carriage of her head and
shoulders invariably made people turn to look.

"My, ain't she fine-looking!" exclaimed an excited lady beholder above.
"I guess that must be Miss Vanderpoel, the multi-millionaire's daughter.
Jane told me she'd heard she was crossing this trip."

Bettina heard her. She sometimes wondered if she was ever pointed out,
if her name was ever mentioned without the addition of the explanatory
statement that she was the multi-millionaire's daughter. As a child she
had thought it ridiculous and tiresome, as she had grown older she had