"So am I my own maid," said Lesley. "He never said he was rich, or——"
"I mean he isn't a Marquis."
The soft outline of the girl's figure stiffened, and she sat up very straight on the sofa.
"Who says he isn't a Marquis?" she asked sharply.
"Everybody. The newspaper."
"Oh—the newspaper!"
"But it's true. He's been turned out of his hotel. I'll read you the——"
"Please, I think I'll read it myself, if you don't mind, dear," said Lesley. "That is—when you've finished. I can wait."
"I have finished, all I care about reading," Mrs. Loveland hastened to assure her, for she invariably discovered that she has ceased to want anything which Lesley could even be suspected of wishing for.
"Take the paper, dear. Don't get up. I'll bring it to you."