t's
what you want--time for Lew to get his puppy eyes opened. You can
elaborate the idea. I'll just give you the skeleton."

She did, and, soon after, Leighton saw her into a cab. He went back to
the flat and waited. He knew that Lewis would not be gone long. He would
be too keen to hear his father's and Lady Derl's verdict.

Leighton had just settled down to a book and a second cigar when Lewis
came into the room like a breeze that had only a moment to stay.

"Well, Dad," he cried, "what have you got to say now? What has Lady Derl
got to say?"

Lewis flung himself into a chair, crossed his arms, and stretched his
legs straight out before him. His head hung to one side, and he was so
confident of his father's verdict that he was laughing at him out of
bright eyes.

Leighton laid his book aside and took his cigar from his mouth. He
leaned toward his son, his elbows on his knees.

"Every time I see Miss Delaires," he said slowly, "my opinion of her
charms and her accomplishments goes up with a leap."

Lewis nodded, and scarcely refrained from saying, "I told you so."

Leighton's face remained impassive. "She has a much larger repertoire
than I thought," he continued; "but there's one role she can't play."

"What's that?" asked Lewis.

"Marriage."

"Why?" asked Lewis, his face setting. Then he blurted out: "I might as
Well tell you, she says she doesn't believe in marriage. She's too
advanced."

"Too advanced!" exclaimed Leighton. "Why, my dear boy, she hasn't
advanced an inch from the time the strongest man with the biggest club
had a God-given right to the fairest woman in the tribe and exercised
it. That was the time for Folly to marry."

"Go easy, Dad," warned Lewis.

"I'm going to, Boy," said Leighton. "You hear a lot of talk to-day on
the shortcomings of marriage as an institution. The socialists and the
suffragists and a lot of other near-sighted people have got it into
their heads that we've outgrown marriage." Leighton puffed at his cigar.
"Once I was invited out to dinner, and had to eat cabbage because there
was nothing else. That night I had the most terrible dream of my life. I
dreamed that instead of growing up, I was growing down, and that by
morning I had grown down so far that, when I tried to put them on, I
only reached to the crotch of my trousers. I'll never forget those
flapping, empty legs."

Lewis smiled.

"You can smile," went on Leighton. "I can't, even now. That's what's
happ