m and felt out every muscle, every joint, to
the tips of Folly's fingers. Back up the arm again, across the bosom,
and down the other arm. Back to the neck once more, and then down and
around the body to the very last joint of Folly's very last and very
little toe.

Folly let go a great sigh, sprang from the table, and stood erect, young
and alive in every fiber, in the center of the blue and white bath-rug.
The film of cold cream was quite gone. But the _masseuse_ was not yet
content. She caught up a soft, scented towel and passed it deftly over
arms, body, and legs, not forgetting the last little toe. When she
finished, she was on her knees. She looked up and nodded to Folly's
inquiring glance.

Folly gave a little laugh of pure delight, and stretched. She held her
doubled fists high above her head. Her whole body glowed in an even,
unblemished pink. Verily, it seemed to breathe; it breathed with the
breath of flowers. And no wonder!

When she had finished stretching, Marie was holding ready a gown of
silk,--dark blue, with a foam of lace at the throat and on the broad
half-sleeves,--and Buggins had placed lamb's-wool slippers just before
her feet. But Folly was too full of animal to be even so softly
imprisoned just yet. With a chuckle of mischief, she gave them each a
quick push and darted across the room and out by the door.

Maid and masseuse followed her into the bedroom with protesting cries.
The bedroom had been put in order. Only the bed itself, dressed merely
in a fresh white sheet and pillows, looked a little naked, for the
bedclothes proper had been carried out to air. In the center of the bed
was Folly, curled up like a kitten. Her hair had tumbled down into two
thick, loose braids. She submitted now to the gown, and wrapped herself
carefully in it. Propped high against the pillows, a braid of brown hair
falling forward over each shoulder, and her bare arms lying still at her
sides, she looked very demure indeed and very sweet.

"Bring tea, Marie," she said softly, "and show in Daddy Leighton."

CHAPTER XXXVII

LEIGHTON'S first feeling on entering Folly's bedroom was one of despair.
All his knowledge of the highways and byways of the feminine mind was
only enough to make him recognize, as he glanced about the room, that he
was about to encounter more! than a personality, that he was face to
face with a force.

The most illuminating thing that can be said about Folly's bedroom is
that Leig