In the second year of his success Rantoul, quite by accident, met a girl
in her teens named Tina Glover, only daughter of Cyrus Glover, a man of
millions, self-made. The first time their eyes met and lingered, by the
mysterious chemistry of the passions Rantoul fell desperately in love
with this little slip of a girl, who scarcely reached to his shoulder;
who, on her part, instantly made up her mind that she had found the
husband she intended to have. Two weeks later they were engaged.

She was seventeen, scarcely more than a child, with clear, blue eyes
that seemed too large for her body, very timid and appealing. It is true
she seldom expressed an opinion, but she listened to every one with a
flattering smile, and the reputations of brilliant talkers have been
built on less. She had a way of passing her two arms about Rantoul's
great one and clinging to him in a weak, dependent way that was quite
charming.

When Cyrus Glover was informed that his daughter intended to marry a
dauber in paints, he started for Paris on ten hours' notice. But Mrs.
Glover who was just as resolved on social conquests as Glover was in
controlling the plate-glass field, went down to meet him at the boat,
and by the time the train entered the St. Lazare Station, he had been
completely disciplined and brought to understand that a painter was one
thing and that a Rantoul, who happened to paint, was quite another. When
he had known Rantoul a week; and listened open-mouthed to his eloquent
schemes for reordering the universe, and the arts in particular, he was
willing to swear that he was one of the geniuses of the world.

The wedding took place shortly, and Cyrus Glover gave the bridegroom a
check for $100,000, "so that he wouldn't have to be bothering his wife