dn't seen you. But he knew a lot about you, from Mr. Lapharn
and Mr. Avery, and some other men who had met you."

"Who else?"

"Miss Leroy, mamma's bridesmaid, who spent two weeks at our villa near
Florence, and Dr. Purple, your clergyman, who was in the same house with
us at Ober-Ammergau, and--and--oh the best were Mr. and Mrs. Rivington.
They were in Jersey, having their honeymoon. They told me more than all
the rest put together."

"I feel quite safe in their hands. Dorothy and I formed a mutual
admiration society a good many years ago."

"She and Mr. Rivington couldn't say enough good of you."

"You must make allowance for the fact that they were on their wedding
journey, and probably saw everything rose-colored."

"That was it. Dorothy told me about your giving Mr. Rivington a full
partnership, in order that Mr. Ogden should give his consent."

Peter laughed.

"Ray swore that he wouldn't tell. And Dorothy has always appeared
ignorant. And yet she knew it on her wedding trip."

"She couldn't help it. She said she must tell some one, she was so
happy. So she told mamma and me. She showed us your photograph. Papa and
mamma said it was like you, but I don't think it is."

Again Leonore looked up at him. Leonore, when she glanced at a man, had
the same frank, fearless gaze that her mother had of yore. But she did
not look as often nor as long, and did not seem so wrapped up in the
man's remarks when she looked. We are afraid even at seventeen that
Leonore had discovered that she had very fetching eyes, and did not
intend to cheapen them, by showing them too much. During the whole of
this dialogue, Peter had had only "come-and-go" glimpses of those eyes.
He wanted to see more of them. He longed to lean over and turn the face
up and really look down into them. Still, he could see the curly hair,
and the little ear, and the round of the cheek, and the long lashes. For
the moment Peter did not agree with Mr. Weller that "life isn't all beer
and skittles."

"I've been so anxious to meet you. I've begged papa ever since we landed
to take me to see you. And he's promised me, over and over again, to do
it, but something always interfered. You see, I felt very strange
and--and queer, not knowing people of my own country, and I felt that I
really knew you, and wouldn't have to begin new as I do with other
people. I do so dread next winter when I'm to go into society. I don't
know what I shall do, I'll not know any o