Fenton threw back his head and burst into a shout of laughter.

"'Twere errant folly to presume,
Love's flame could burn and not consume,"

he sang, going off again into peals of laughter. "Good by, mon amie; oh, mais comment on s'en—"

"Stop," interrupted she. "I'll have no more blasphemy."

"Good-by, then," he said, picking up his hat.

"You may as well stay to lunch," his hostess said rising.

"No," returned he. "I must go and write to Edith."

And off he went, humming:

"'Twere errant folly to presume
Love's flame could burn and not consume."

II.