me to say to you. My boy wants to marry you. I don't
want him to. I might as well confess that during the last ten minutes
I've given up any ideas I had of buying you off. I'm not worth a
million."

"You poor dear," said Folly, "don't worry any longer. I don't want to
marry Lew. Ask me something else."

"I will," said Leighton. "It's just this. Chuck Lew over. Get rid of
him. It will hurt him, I know. I can understand that better now than I
did before. But I'd rather hurt him a bit that way than see him on the
rack."

"Thanks," said Folly; "but, you see, I can't get rid of him. You can't
get rid of something you haven't got." She smiled. "Don't you see? I'll
have to get him before I can oblige you."

"Don't bother," said Leighton. "A clever woman like you often gets rid
of something she hasn't got. Look here, you don't want to marry Lew,
and, what's more, you don't love him. You couldn't marry him if you
wanted to. You know it isn't in you to marry any man. But I tell you,
Folly, if it really was in you truly to marry Lew, I'd give in and bless
you. I wouldn't have yesterday, but I would to-day; because, my dear,
you are simply made up of charms. The only thing missing is a soul."

"You talk better than Lew--not so silly," remarked Folly. "But what's
the use of all this palaver about marrying? I've told you I don't want
to marry him."

"Well, what do you want, then?"

"I want Lew," said Folly, smiling. She sat up, and drew her knees into
the circle of her arms. "He's an awfully nice boy. So like you, Marie
says. I just want him to have. _You_ know."

"Yes," said Leighton, dryly. "Well, you can't have him."

"Can't have him?" repeated Folly, straightening. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to."

"But why?"

"Well," said Leighton, "I don't believe in that sort of thing."

"Oh, oh!" cried Folly, "now you're trying to make me laugh again! By the
way, _are_ you Mr. Grapes Leighton?"

"I am," said Leighton, flushing.

Folly called the maid.

"Marie," she said, "bring me my scrap-book--the oldest one."

Leighton moved back to the chair and sat down with a resigned air. Marie
brought in a huge scrap-book, and placed it on a bracket tea-tray that
swung in over the bed. Folly opened the book and turned the leaves
slowly. "Here we are," she said at last, and read, mimicking each
speaker to a turn:

"'Counsel:' 'Please, Mrs. Bing, just answer yes or no; did you or did
you not meet Mr. Leighton in the cor