ure should be seen by the comparative
few. What every one possesses is necessarily a commonplace.

"And now, to get back. I have never talked seriously to you before; I
may never do it again. The essence, the distinctive finesse, of
breeding, lies in a trained gaiety and an implied sincerity. But what I
must say to you is this: Even in this leveling age there are a few of us
who look with terror upon an incipient socialism; who believe money as
money to be despicable and food and clothing, incidental; who abhor
equality, cherish sorrow and suffering and look uponeducation--knowledge
of living before God and man--as the ultimate and only source of
content. That's a creed. I'd like to have you think on it. I'd like to
have my boy join the Old Guard. Do you begin to see how success in art
may become a danger?"

"Yes," said Lewis, "I think I do. I think you mean that--that in selling
art one is apt to sell one's self."

"H--m--m!" said Leighton, "you are older than I am. I'll take you to
Paris to-morrow."

Nelton knocked, and threw open the door without waiting for an answer.

"Her ladyship," he announced.

Lady Derl entered. She was looking very girlish in a close-fitting,
tailored walking-suit. The skirt was short--the first short skirt to
reach London. Beneath it could be seen her very pretty feet. They walked
excitedly.

Lady Derl was angry. She held a large card in her hand. She tore it into
bits and tossed it at Leighton's feet.

"Glen," she said, "don't you ever dare to send me one of your engraved
'regrets' again. Why--why you've been rude to me!"

Leighton hung his head. For one second Lewis had the delightful
sensation of taking his father for a brother and in trouble.

"H lne," said Leighton. "I apologize humbly and abjectly. I thought it
would amuse you."

"Apologies are hateful," said Lady Derl. "They're so final. To see a
fine young quarrel, in the prime of life, die by lightning--sad! sad!"
She started drawing off her gloves. "Let's have tea." As she poured tea
for them she asked, "And what's the real reason you two aren't coming to
my dinner?"

Leighton picked up the maimed kid and laid it on the tea-tray. He nodded
toward Lewis.

"He made it, I'm going to gamble a bit on him."

"Poor little thing!" said Lady Derl, poking the two-legged kid with her
finger.

"I'm going to put him under Le Brux,--Saint Anthony,--if he'll take
him," continued Leighton. "We leave for Paris to-morrow."

"Un