fine young quarrel, in the prime of life, die by lightning--sad! sad!"
She started drawing off her gloves. "Let's have tea." As she poured tea
for them she asked, "And what's the real reason you two aren't coming to
my dinner?"

Leighton picked up the maimed kid and laid it on the tea-tray. He nodded
toward Lewis.

"He made it, I'm going to gamble a bit on him."

"Poor little thing!" said Lady Derl, poking the two-legged kid with her
finger.

"I'm going to put him under Le Brux,--Saint Anthony,--if he'll take
him," continued Leighton. "We leave for Paris to-morrow."

"Under Saint Anthony?" repeated Lady Derl. "H--m--m! Perhaps you are
right. But Blanche, Berthe, and Vi will hold it against me."

When Lewis was alone with his father, he asked: "Does Lady Derl belong
to the Old Guard?"

"You wouldn't think it, but she does," said Leighton,--"inside."




CHAPTER XIX