she carried. "Did you see what the paper said about her this
morning?" she asked. "' Miss Simpkins was exquisitely clad in purple
velvet,' and so on! She looked for all the world like the Venus at
the Hippodrome!"

"Why isn't she in Society?" asked Montague, curiously.

"She!" exclaimed Betty. "Why, she's a travesty!"

There was a moment's pause, preceding a remark by their young lady
visitor. "I've an idea," said she, "that the real reason she never
got into Society was that she was fond of her old father."

And Montague gave a short glance at the speaker, who was gazing
fixedly into the ring. He heard the Major chuckle, and he thought
that he heard Betty Wyman give a little sniff. A few moments later
the young lady arose, and with some remark to Mrs. Venable about how
well her costume became her, she passed on out of the box.

"Who is that?" asked Montague.

"That," the Major answered, "that's Laura Hegan--Jim Hegan's
daughter."

"Oh!" said Montague, and caught his breath. Jim Hegan--Napoleon of
finance--czar of a gigantic system of railroads, and the power
behind the political thrones of many states.

"His only daughter, too," the Major added. "Gad, what a juicy morsel
for somebody!"