f one sort and another, but none like this.

"She tears my heart from my bosom," muttered the Portier, sighing, and
almost swallowed a screw that he held in his teeth.

After the practicing Harmony cleaned Peter's room. She felt very tender
toward Peter that day. The hurt left by Mrs. Boyer's visit had died
away, but there remained a clear vision of Peter standing behind the
chair and offering himself humbly in marriage, so that a bad situation
might be made better. And as with a man tenderness expresses itself in
the giving of gifts, so with a woman it means giving of service. Harmony
cleaned Peter's room.

It was really rather tidy. Peter's few belongings did not spread to any
extent and years of bachelorhood had taught him the rudiments of order.
Harmony took the covers from washstand and dressing table and washed and
ironed them. She cleaned Peter's worn brushes and brought a pincushion
of her own for his one extra scarfpin. Finally she brought her own
steamer rug and folded it across the foot of the bed. There was no stove
in the room; it had been Harmony's room once, and she knew to the full
how cold it could be.

Having made all comfortable for the outer man she prepared for the
inner. She was in the kitchen, still with her hair tied up, when Anna
came home.

Anna was preoccupied. Instead of her cheery greeting she came somberly
back to the kitchen, a letter in her hand. History was making fast that
day.

"Hello, Harry," she said. "I'm going to take a bite and hurry off. Don't
bother, I'll attend to myself." She stuffed the letter in her belt and
got a plate from a shelf. "How pretty you look with your head tied up!
If stupid Peter saw you now he would fall in love with you."

"Then I shall take it off. Peter must be saved!"

Anna sat down at the tiny table and drank her tea. She felt rather
better after the tea. Harmony, having taken the towel off, was busy over
the brick stove. There was nothing said for a moment. Then:--

"I am out of patience with Peter," said Anna.

"Why?"

"Because he hasn't fallen in love with you. Where are his eyes?"

"Please, Anna!"

"It's better as it is, no doubt, for both of you. But it's superhuman of
Peter. I wonder--"

"Yes?"

"I think I'll not tell you what I wonder."

And Harmony, rather afraid of Anna's frank speech, did not insist.

As she drank her tea and made a pretense at eating, Anna's thoughts
wandered from Peter to Harmony to the letter in her belt