oceeded to make such a meal as
he might, talking little, and nursing, by a careful indifference, her
new-growing confidence.

It was when he had pushed his plate away and lighted a
cigarette--according to the custom of the pension, which accorded the
"Nicht Rauchen" sign the same attention that it did to the portrait of
the deceased Herr Schwarz--that he turned to her again.

"I am sorry you are not able to walk. It promises a nice night."

Peter was clever. Harmony, expecting an invitation to walk, had nerved
herself to a cool refusal. This took her off guard.

"Then you do not prescribe air?"

"That's up to how you feel. If you care to go out and don't mind my
going along as a sort of Old Dog Tray I haven't anything else to do."

Dr. Gates, eating stewed fruit across the table, gave Peter a swift
glance of admiration, which he caught and acknowledged. He was rather
exultant himself; certainly he had been adroit.

"I'd rather like a short walk. It will make me sleep," said Harmony,
who had missed the by-play. "And Old Dog Tray would be a very nice
companion, I'm sure."

It is doubtful, however, if Anna Gates would have applauded Peter
had she followed the two in their rambling walk that night. Direction
mattering little and companionship everything, they wandered on, talking
of immaterial things--of the rough pavements, of the shop windows, of
the gray medieval buildings. They came to a full stop in front of the
Votivkirche, and discussed gravely the twin Gothic spires and the
Benk sculptures on the facade. And there in the open square, casting
diplomacy to the winds, Peter Byrne turned to Harmony and blurted out
what was in his heart.

"Look here," he said, "you don't care a rap about spires. I don't
believe you know anything about them. I don't. What did that idiot of a
woman doctor say to you to-day?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You do very well. And I'm going to set you right. She starts out with
two premises: I'm a man, and you're young and attractive. Then she draws
some sort of fool deduction. You know what I mean?"

"I don't see why we need discuss it," said poor Harmony. "Or how you
know--"

"I know because she told me. She knew she had been a fool, and she
came to me. I don't know whether it makes any difference to you or not,
but--we'd started out so well, and then to have it spoiled! My dear
girl, you are beautiful and I know it. That's all the more reason why,
if you'll stand for it,