rget Peter God's
eyes.

"Sometimes I thought they were blue, and sometimes gray," he said; and
at that she dropped his hands with a strange little cry, and stood a
step back from him, a joy which she made no effort to keep from him
flaming in her face.

It was a look which sent a sudden hopelessness through Curtis--a
stinging pang of jealousy. This night had set wild and tumultuous
emotions aflame in his breast. He had come to Josephine McCloud like
one in a dream. In an hour he had placed her above all other women in
the world, and in that hour the little gods of fate had brought him to
his knees in the worship of a woman. The fact did not seem unreal to
him. Here was the woman, and he loved her. And his heart sank like a
heavily weighted thing when he saw the transfiguration of joy that came
into her face when he said that Peter God's eyes were not dark, but
were sometimes blue and sometimes gray.

"And this Peter God?" he said, straining to make his voice even. "What
is he to you?"

His question cut her like a knife. The wild color ebbed swiftly out of
her cheeks. Into her eyes swept a haunting fear which he was to see and
wonder at more than once. It was as if he had done something to
frighten her. "We--my father and I--are interested in him," she said.
Her words cost her a visible effort. He noticed a quick throbbing in
her throat, just above the filmy lace. "Mr. Curtis, won't you pardon
this--this betrayal of excitement in myself? It must be unaccountable
to you. Perhaps a little later you will understand. We are imposing on
you by not confiding in you what this interest is, and I beg you to
forgive me. But there is a reason. Will you believe me? There is a
reason."

Her hands rested lightly on Philip's arm. Her eyes implored him.

"I will not ask for confidences which you are not free to give," he
said gently.

He was rewarded by a soft glow of thankfulness.

"I cannot make you understand how much that means to me," she cried
tremblingly. "And you will tell us about Peter God? Father--"

She turned.

Colonel McCloud had reentered the room.

With the feeling of one who was not quite sure that he was awake,
Philip paused under a street lamp ten minutes after leaving the McCloud
apartments, and looked at his watch. It was a quarter of two o'clock. A
low whistle of surprise fell from his lips. For three hours he had been
with Colonel McCloud and his daughter. It had seemed like an hour. He
still felt