nsation." He yanked a bath-robe from the bed. "Here, you savage, shed
those leather togs, but don't lose them. You'll want to take them out
and look at them some stuffy day. Now put this on and run to your bath."

When Lewis came back to the room he found most of his things had been
packed away in the big, new trunk. On the bed certain garments were laid
out. They were laid out in correct order.

Leighton stood beside the bed in a deferential attitude. His face was a
blank. "Will you be wearing the white flannels to-night, sir, or the
dinner-jacket? If you will allow me, I would suggest the flannels.
Sultry evening, and Mr. Leighton will be dining on the terrace."

"Yes, I'll wear the flannels," stammered Lewis.

"Your singlet, sir," said Leighton, picking up the undershirt from the
bed. Article after article he handed to his son in allotted order. Lewis
put each thing on as fast as his nervous hands would let him. He tried
to keep his eyes from wandering to the head of the line, where lay
collar and tie. The collar had been buttoned to the back of the shirt,
but when it came to fastening it in front, Lewis's fingers fumbled
hopelessly.

"Allow me, sir," said Leighton. He fastened the collar deftly. "I see
you don't like that tie with the flannels, sir. My mistake."

He threw open the trunk, and took out a brown cravat of soft silk. "Your
brown scarf, sir. It goes well with the flannels. Will you watch in the
glass, sir?" He placed the cravat, measured it carefully, knotted it,
and drew it up.

Lewis did not watch in the mirror. His eyes were fixed on his father's
mask of a face. He knew that, inside, his father was bubbling with fun;
but no ripple showed in his face, no disrespectful twinkle in his eye.
Leighton was playing the game. Suddenly, for no reason that he could
name, Lewis began to adore his father.

"Will that do, sir?"

"Certainly," stammered Lewis. "Very nicely, thank you"

"Thank _you_, sir," said Leighton. He handed Lewis the flannel trousers
and then the coat.

As Lewis finished putting them on, Leighton whirled on his heel.

"Ready, my boy?" The mask was gone.

Lewis laughed back into his father's twinkling eyes.

"Yes, I'm ready," he said rather breathlessly. He followed his father
out of the room. The new clothes gripped him in awkward places, but as
he glanced down at the well-pressed flannels, he felt glorified.

That night, while strolling in a back street of the lower town, they