They knighted him.
They knight every successful tradesman and schemer; and this man is a prince of his tribe; a low-born adventurer, a _parvenu_ of the worst type." "I think I have read something about him in the newspapers," said Ida, thoughtfully.
Mr.Heron emitted a low snarl.
"No doubt; he is one whom the world delights to honour; it bows before the successful charlatan, and cringes to his ill-gotten wealth.

I'm told that such a man is received, yes, and welcomed by society.
Society! The word is a misnomer.

In my time a man of that class was kept at arm's-length, was relegated to his proper place--the back hall; but now"-- he gazed angrily at the paper--"here is a whole column describing Sir Stephen Orme's new 'palatial villa,' and giving an account of his achievements, the success of his great undertakings.

And this man has chosen to build his eyesore on Heron lands, within sight of the house which--which he would not have been permitted to enter.

If I had known, I would not have sold the land." "But you wanted the money, father," she said, gently.
He looked at her swiftly, and a change came over his face, a look of caution, almost of cunning.
"Eh?
Yes, yes, of course I wanted it.