THE WORTH OF THE PRICE
Nobody in a normal humor would dispute the fact that Clementine Willis was a strikingly handsome girl. One might even be moved, by a burst of enthusiasm, to declare her beautiful. There was about her that subtle, elusive charm of perfection in minute detail, possible only to the wealthy who can discriminate between art and that which is artificial, and who can take advantage of all of art’s magic resources, without imparting the slightest suggestion of artificiality.
Her hair and eyes were dark––very dark; her skin bore the matchless, transparent tint of ivory; every line of her high-bred face, and of her hands and her slender, arched feet, bespoke the ultimate degree of refinement.
She was the sort of girl, in short, that a full-blooded man must needs stare at, perhaps furtively, but with no thought of boldness. Stupid, 394 indeed, must be he who would attempt anything even remotely approaching familiarity with Miss Willis.
Her smart brougham waits in front of a new and resplendent down-town office building on a certain afternoon, while Miss Willis ascends in one of the elevators to the tenth floor. She proceeds with assurance, but leisurely––mayhap she is a trifle bored––to a door which somehow manages to convey an impression of prosperity beyond. It bears upon its frosted glass the name of Dr. Leonard, a renowned specialist in diseases of the throat, besides the names of a half-dozen assistants––in much smaller lettering––who, doubtless, are in the ferment of struggling for positions of equal renown.
The door opening discloses a neat, uniformed maid and a large and richly furnished reception-room. Five ladies, of various ages and all handsomely gowned, are seated here and there, manifestly forcing patience to relieve the ennui which would have been tolerated with no other detail of the day’s routine.
This cursory survey is sufficient, it is hoped, to demonstrate that Dr. Leonard’s practice is 395 confined among a class of which most other practitioners might be pardonably envious.
The white-aproned, white-capped maid smiled a polite recognition of the newest arrival. A bit flustered by the calmly impersonal scrutiny with which her greeting was received, she addressed Miss Willis in a subdued voice.