“No,” she answered.  “Neither the girl nor the man would like it, and it is their business, not mine.  But it is practical and would prevent silly mistakes.  It would prevent the girls being laughed at.  It is when they are flattered by the choice made of them that they are laughed at.  No one can sneer at a man or woman for buying what they think they want, and throwing it aside if it turns out a bad bargain.”

She had seated herself near her father.  She rested her elbow slightly on the table and her chin in the hollow of her hand.  She was a beautiful young creature.  She had a soft curving mouth, and a soft curving cheek which was warm rose.  Taken in conjunction with those young charms, her next words had an air of incongruity.

“You think I am hard,” she said.  “When I think of these things I am hard—­as hard as nails.  That is an Americanism, but it is a good expression.  I am angry for America.  If we are sordid and undignified, let us get what we pay for and make the others acknowledge that we have paid.”

She did not smile, nor did her father.  Mr. Vanderpoel, on the contrary, sighed.  He had a dreary suspicion that Rosy, at least, had not received what she had paid for, and he knew she had not been in the least aware that she had paid or that she was expected to do so.  Several times during the last few years he had thought that if he had not been so hard worked, if he had had time, he would have seriously investigated the case of Rosy.  But who is not aware that the profession of multimillionaire does not allow of any swerving from duty or of any interests requiring leisure?

“I wonder, Betty,” he said quite deliberately, “if you know how handsome you are?”

“Yes,” answered Bettina.  “I think so.  And I am tall.  It is the fashion to be tall now.  It was Early Victorian to be little.  The Queen brought in the ‘dear little woman,’ and now the type has gone out.”

“They will come to look at you pretty soon,” said Vanderpoel.  “What shall you say then?”

“I?” said Bettina, and her voice sounded particularly low and mellow.  “I have a little monomania, father.  Some people have a monomania for one thing and some for another.  Mine is for not taking a bargain from the ducal remnant counter.”

CHAPTER VI

AN UNFAIR ENDOWMENT

To Bettina Vanderpoel had been given, to an extraordinary extent, the extraordinary thing which is called beauty—­which is a thing entirely set apart from mere good looks or prettiness.  This thing is extraordinary because, if statistics were taken, the result would probably be the discovery that not three human beings in a million really possess it.  That it should be bestowed at all—­since it is so rare—­seems as unfair a thing as appears to the mere mortal mind the bestowal of unbounded wealth, since it quite as inevitably places the life of its owner upon an abnormal