desk, and he very
deliberately proceeded to empty the contents out on his blotter. He
handled each article. There was a crisp ten-dollar bill, evidently the
last of those given by the bank at the beginning of the month. There
were two one-dollar bills. There was a fifty-cent piece, two quarters
and a dime. A gold German twenty-mark piece, about eight inches of
narrow crimson ribbon, and a glove button, completed the contents. Peter
returned the American money and the glove button to the purse and handed
it back to Miss D'Alloi.

"You've forgotten the ribbon and the gold piece," said Leonore.

"You were never more mistaken in your life," replied Peter, with
anything but legal guardedness concerning unprovable statements. He
folded up the ribbon neatly and put it, with the coin, in his waistcoat
pocket.

"Oh," said Leonore, "I can't let you have that That's my luck-piece."

"Is it?" Peter expressed much surprise blended with satisfaction in his
tone.

"Yes. You don't want to take my good luck."

"I will think it over, and write you a legal opinion later.

"Please!" Miss D'Alloi pleaded.

"That is just what I have succeeded in doing--for myself."

"But I want my luck-piece. I found it in a crack of the rocks crossing
the Ghemi. And I must have the ribbon. I need it to match for a gown it
goes with." Miss D'Alloi put true anxiety into her voice, whatever she
really felt.

"I shall be glad to help you match it," said Peter, "and any time you
send me word, I will go shopping with you. As for your luck, I shall
keep that for the present."

"Now I know," said Leonore crossly, "why lawyers have such a bad
reputation. They are perfect thieves!" She looked at Peter with the
corners of her mouth drawn down. He gazed at her with a very grave look
on his face. They eyed each other steadily for a moment, and then the
corners of Leonore's mouth suddenly curled upwards. She tried hard for a
moment to keep serious. Then she gave up and laughed. Then they both
laughed.

Many people will only see an amusing side to the dialogue here so
carefully recorded. If so, look back to the time when everything that he
or she said was worth listening to. Or if there has never been a he or a
she, imitate Peter, and wait. It is worth waiting for.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE HERMITAGE.

It is not to be supposed from this last reflection of ours, that Leonore
was not heart-whole. Leonore had merely had a few true friends, owing to