"For Heaven's sake don't mention children!" cried Mrs. Minturn. "They are a bother and a curse!" "Oh Mrs. Minturn!" exclaimed Leslie. "Of course I don't mean _quite_ that; but I do very near! Mine are perfect little devils; all the trouble James and I ever had came through them. His idea of a mother is a combined doctor, wet-nurse and nursery maid, while I must say, I far from agree with him. What are servants for if not to take the trouble of children off your hands?" Leslie was glad to reach the rich woman's door and deposit her there. As the car sped away the girl turned a despairing face toward Douglas: "For the love of Moike!" she cried. "Isn't that shocking? Poor Mr. Minturn!" "I don't pity him half so much as I do her," he answered. "What must a woman have suffered or been through, to warp, twist, and harden her like that?" "Society life," answered Leslie, "as it is lived by people of wealth who are aping royalty and the titled classes." "A branch of them--possibly," conceded Douglas. "I know some titled and wealthy people who would be dumbfounded over that woman's ideas." "So do I," said Leslie. "Of course there are exceptions. Sometimes the exception becomes bigger than the rule, but not in our richest society. Douglas, let's keep close together! Oh don't let's ever drift into such a state as that. I should have asked them to lunch, but I couldn't. If that is the way she is talking before her friends, surely she won't have many, soon." "Then her need for a real woman like you will be all the greater," answered Douglas. "I suppose you should have asked her; but I'm delighted that you didn't! To-day began so nearly perfect, I want to end it with only you and your father. Will he resent me, Leslie?" "It all depends on us. If we are selfish and leave him alone he will feel it. If we can make him realize gain instead of loss he will be happier than he is now." "I wish I hadn't felt obliged to reject his offer the other night. I'm very sorry about it." "I'm not," said Leslie. "You have a right to live your life in your own way. I have seen enough of running for office, elections and appointments that I hate it. You do the work you educated yourself for and I'll help you." "Then my success is assured," laughed Douglas. "Leslie, may I leave my basket here? Will you care for it like yours, and may I come to see it often?" "No. You may come to see me and look at the basket incidentally," she answered. "Do you think Mrs. Minturn will go to the swamp to listen to those birds?" he asked. "Eventually she will," answered the girl. "I may have to begin by taking her to an orchard to hear a bird of gold sing a golden song about 'sewing, and mending, and baby tending,' to start on; but when she hears that, she will be eager for more." "How interesting!" cried Douglas. "'Bearer of Morning,' sing that song to me now." Leslie whistled the air, beating time with her hand, then sang the words: