“‘You’re right––it was busted long ago,’ said Henry Delance.
“‘Some one has got to contrive a new mainspring for the sons of millionaires––they’re so plenty these days.’
“‘There’s the desire to be respectable,’ he suggested.
“‘But it is not nearly so universal as the love of money. If it were possible to have millionaire carpenters and shoemakers there’d be more hope! But I’ll try to invent a mainspring for Harry. If he doesn’t marry some fool woman there’s a chance for the boy––a good chance. Tell me all about him.’
“In his own way, which amused me a little, the old man sketched the character of his son, or rather confessed it.
“‘A kind of Alexander the Great,’ he said. ‘We shall have to be careful or lose our heads. Surfeited with power, you know. When he wants anything he goes to a store and says, “Charge it.” That has ruined him. He’s no scale of values in his mind.’
“He told me, then, with some evidence 18 of alarm, that Harry had become interested in a fool woman, older than he, noted for her beauty and equestrian skill––by name Mrs. Revere-Chalmers, of a well-known Southern family. I knew the woman––divorced from a rich old gentleman of great generosity, who had taken all the blame for her sake. But I happened to know that the circumstances on her side were not creditable. The truth, however, had been well concealed.
“In her youth Frances Revere had two beautiful parents. In fact, they were all that any girl could desire––obedient and respectful to their youngers. She was always kind to them and kept them looking neatly and helped them in their lessons and brought them up in the fear of Tiffany and the hope of future happiness. They played most of the time, but never chased each other in and out of the bedrooms or made any noise about the house when she lay sleeping in the forenoon. Their sense 19 of chivalry would not have permitted it. When she arose she called them to her and patted their heads and said: ‘What dear parents I have!’ It might be thought that the fair Frances led an aimless and idle life. Not so. The young lady was very busy and never forgot her aim. She was preparing herself to be a marryer of men and the leading marryer in the proud city of her birth. Every member of the household became her assistant in this noble industry. Many storekeepers had unconsciously joined her staff and ‘charged it’ until they were weary. All her papa’s money had been invested in the business, and he began to borrow for a rainy day. Then there came a long spell of wet weather. At last something had to be done. Frances began to use her talents. No prince or noble duke had come for her, so she married an old man worth ten million dollars and sent her parents to an orphan asylum with a fair allowance of spending-money. They 20 are her only heirs, and now, at thirty, but with ample capital, she has set up again in the marrying business.
“She lives in a big country-house, and has a lot of cats and dogs that are shampooed every day. Her life is pretty much devoted to the regulation of hair. Her own requires the exclusive attention of a hired girl. Its tint, luster, and general effect show excellent taste and close application. Considering its area, her scalp is the most remarkable field of industry in Connecticut. Has herself made into a kind of life-sized portrait every day and carefully framed and lighted and hung. It is a beautiful portrait, but it is not a portrait of her.