able
to walk, sit down on that stone, and I'll bring a cab. It oughtn't to
take me ten minutes."

"You are very good," said the girl, raising her eyes, and taking a look
at Peter's face for the first time.

A thrill went through Peter.

The girl had slate-colored eyes!!

CHAPTER XXXVI.

A DREAM.

Something in Peter's face seemed to reassure the girl, for though she
looked down after the glance, she ceased leaning against the horse, and
said, "I behaved very foolishly, of course. Now I will do whatever you
think best."

Before Peter had recovered enough from his thrill to put what he thought
into speech, a policeman came riding towards them, leading the roan
mare. "Any harm done?" he called.

"None, fortunately. Where can we get a cab? Or can you bring one here?"

"I'm afraid there'll be none nearer than Fifty-ninth Street. They leave
the other entrances before it's as dark as this."

"Never mind the cab," said the girl. "If you'll help me to mount, I'll
ride home."

"That's the pluck!" said the policeman.

"Do you think you had better?" asked Peter.

"Yes. I'm not a bit afraid. If you'll just tighten the girth."

It seemed to Peter he had never encountered such a marvellously
fascinating combination as was indicated by the clinging position of a
minute ago and the erect one of the present moment. He tightened the
girth with a pull that made the roan mare wonder if a steam-winch had
hold of the end, and then had the pleasure of the little foot being
placed in his hand for a moment, as he lifted the girl into the saddle.

"I shall ride with you," he said, mounting instantly.

"Beg pardon," said the policeman. "I must take your names. We are
required to report all such things to headquarters."

"Why, Williams, don't you know me?" asked Peter.

Williams looked at Peter, now for the first time on a level with him. "I
beg your pardon, Mr. Stirling. It was so dark, and you are so seldom
here afternoons that I didn't know you."

"Tell the chief that this needn't go on record, nor be given to the
reporters."

"Very well, Mr. Stirling."

"I beg your pardon," said the girl in a frank yet shy way, "but will you
tell me your first name?"

Peter was rather astonished, but he said "Peter."

"Oh!" cried the girl, looking Peter in the face. "I understand it now. I
didn't think I could behave so to a stranger! I must have felt it was
you." She was smiling joyfully, and she did not drop her eyes from