"What do you say," he went on, "to a little trip all by ourselves
again?"

"It would be splendid," said Lewis, eagerly. Then, after a pause: "It
would be fun if we could take Cellette along, too. She'd like it a lot,
I know."

"Yes," said Leighton, dryly, "I don't doubt she would." He seemed to
ponder over the point. "No," he said finally, "it wouldn't do. What I
propose is a man's trip--good stiff walking. We could strike off through
Metz and Kaiserslautern, hit the Rhine valley somewhere about Dürkheim,
pass through Mannheim with our eyes shut, and get to Heidelberg and the
Neckar. Then we could float down the Rhine into Holland. That's the
toy-country of the world. Great place to make you smile."

Lewis's eyes watered.

"When--when shall we start?"

"We'll start to start to-morrow," said Leighton. "We've got to outfit,
you know."

Two days later they were ready. Cellette kissed them both good-by.
Leighton gave her a pretty trinket, a heavy gold locket on a chain. She
glanced up sidewise at him through half-closed eyes.

"What's this?" she asked in the tone of the woman who knows she must
always pay.

"Just a little nothing from Lewis," said Leighton. "Something to