Part 50 (1/2)

”The Pot called the Kettle black.”

”But to tell one's own wife is different. I thought she could keep a secret.”

”How can you expect a person to keep a secret when you can't keep it yourself?” Peter and Ray were both laughing.

Ray said to himself, ”Peter has some awfully knotty point on hand, and is resting the brain tissue for a moment.” Ray had noticed, when Peter interrupted him during office hours, on matters not relating to business, that he had a big or complex question in hand.

Peter closed the door and went back to his room. Then he took a fifth sheet of paper, and wrote:

”WATTS: A day's thought has brought a change of feeling on my part. Neither can be the better for alienation or unkind thoughts.

I regret already my att.i.tude of yesterday. Let us cancel all that has happened since our college days, and put aside as if it had never occurred.

”PETER”

Just as he had finished this, his door opened softly. 'Peter did not hear it, but took the letter up and read it slowly.

”Boo!”

Peter did not jump at the Boo. He looked up very calmly, but the moment he looked up, jump he did. He jumped so that he was shaking hands before the impetus was lost.

”This is the nicest kind of a surprise,” he said.

”Bother you, you phlegmatic old cow,” cried a merry voice. ”Here we have spent ten minutes palavering your boy, in order to make him let us surprise you, and then when we spring it on you, you don't budge. Wasn't it shabby treatment, Dot?”

”You've disappointed us awfully, Mr. Stirling.”

Peter was shaking hands more deliberately with Leonore than he had with Watts. He had been rather clever in shaking hands with him first, so that he need not hurry himself over the second. So he had a very nice moment--all too short--while Leonore's hand lay in his. He said, in order to prolong the moment, without making it too marked, ”It will take something more frightful than you, Miss D'Alloi, to make me jump.” Then Peter was sorry he had said it, for Leonore dropped her eyes.

”Now, old man, give an account of yourself.” Watts was speaking jauntily, but not quite as easily as he usually did. ”Here Leonore and I waited all last evening, and you never came. So she insisted that we come this morning.”

”I don't understand?” Peter was looking at Leonore as if she had made the remark. Leonore was calmly examining Peter's room.

”Why, even a stranger would have called last night to inquire about Dot's health, after such an accident. But for you not to do it, was criminal. If you have aught to say why sentence should not now be pa.s.sed on you, speak now or forever--no--that's the wedding ceremony, isn't it?

Not criminal sentence--though, on second thought, there's not much difference.”

”Did you expect me, Miss D'Alloi?”

Miss D'Alloi was looking at a shelf of law books with her back to Peter, and was pretending great interest in them. She did not turn, but said ”Yes.”

”I wish I had known that,” said Peter, with the sincerest regret in his voice.

Miss D'Alloi's interest in legal literature suddenly ceased. She turned and Peter had a momentary glimpse of those wonderful eyes. Either his words or tone had evidently pleased Miss D'Alloi. The corners of her mouth were curving upwards. She made a deep courtesy to him and said: ”You will be glad to know, Mr. Stirling, that Miss D'Alloi has suffered no serious shock from her runaway, and pa.s.sed a good night. It seemed to Miss D'Alloi that the least return she could make for Mr. Stirling's kindness, was to save him the trouble of coming to inquire about Miss D'Alloi's health, and so leave Mr. Stirling more time to his grimy old law books.”

”There, sir, I hope you are properly crushed for your wrong-doing,”

cried Watts.

”I'm not going to apologize for not coming,” said Peter, ”for that is my loss; but I can say that I'm sorry.”

”That's quite enough,” said Leonore. ”I thought perhaps you didn't want to be friends. And as I like to have such things right out, I made papa bring me down this morning so that I could see for myself.” She spoke with a frankness that seemed to Peter heavenly, even while he grew cold at the thought that she should for a moment question his desire to be friends.