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 The Crowned Skull
Sir Hannibal Trevick was a personage at St. Ewalds. Certainly he lacked money to support the dignity of his name, and therefore had been compelled to let Trevick Grange to a South African millionaire, and take up his abode in the Dower House at the Cornish watering-place. But he came of an old and distinguished family, and possessed to all appearances great force of character. Also, he was an ardent churchman, and a philanthropist. Finally, he had a most charming daughter, who was both clever and beautiful: two things not invariably found together.
Dericka Trevick — her quaint Christian name was a source of wonder to archaeologists, since it was that of the Babylonian fish-goddess, could have figured as Titania at a fairy solemnity. She was small and slender, golden-haired and blue-eyed, with a bright manner and a mercurial temperament. Such a description gives an impression of insipidity and shallowness. But Dericka was neither insipid nor shallow. Her will was strong, her judgement quick and unerring, and she ruled the Dower House. Sir Hannibal obeyed her, although he saved his dignity by pretending that such obedience was but fatherly kindness, which could refuse nothing to his household fairy. She dominated the mild, lean governess, Miss Warry, who had taught her everything, and she kept a tight hand over the three domestics who formed Sir Hannibal’s modest establishment. In spite of her looks and manner Dericka was strong, and could have passed for an Elizabeth or Catherine in embryo...
 

 The Green Mummy
“I am very angry,” pouted the maid.
“In heaven’s name, why?” questioned the bachelor.
“You have, so to speak, bought me.”
“Impossible: your price is prohibitive.”
“Indeed, when a thousand pounds—”
“You are worth fifty and a hundred times as much. Pooh!”
“That interjection doesn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t think it is one which needs answering,” said the young man lightly; “there are more important things to talk about than pounds, shillings, and sordid pence.”
“Oh, indeed! Such as—”
“Love, on a day such as this is. Look at the sky, blue as your eyes; at the sunshine, golden as your hair.”
“Warm as your affection, you should say.”
“Affection! So cold a word, when I love you.”
“To the extent of one thousand pounds.”
“Lucy, you are a—woman. That money did not buy your love, but the consent of your step-father to our marriage. Had I not humored his whim, he would have insisted upon your marrying Random.”
Lucy pouted again and in scorn...

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