The Model Millionaire
Hughie was wonderfully good looking with his crisp brown hair, his clear cut profile and his grey eyes. He was as popular with men as he was with women, and he had every accomplisliment except that of making money. He had tried everything. But he became nothing, a delightful, ineffectual young man with a perfect profile and no profession.
Hughie wanted to marry Laura Merton, the daughter of a retired Colonel. The Colonel was very fond of Hughie but would not hear of any engagement. “Come to me my boy, when you have got ten thousand pounds of your own and we will see about it,” he said. Hughie looked very glum and he cursed himself for his inability to fulfil the condition.
One morning as he was on his way to Holland Park, he dropped in to see a great friend of his, Alan Trevor. Trevor was a painter. He was a strange rough fellow with a freckled face and a red ragged beard.
When he took up the brush, he was a real master and his pictures were eagerly sought after.
When Hughie came in, he found Trevor painting the finishing touches to a wonderful life size picture of a beggar man. The beggar himself was standing on a platform in a corner of the studio. He was a wizened old man with a face like wrinkled parchment and a most piteous expression. Over his shoulders was flung a coarse brown cloak, all tears and tatters; his thick boots were patched and cobbled and with one hand he leant on a rough stick while with the other he held out his battered hat for alms.