he departure of Mr. Maxwell. When the exit was
completed, Mrs. D'Alloi turned to place her puppets properly again. But
she found a decided bar to her intentions. Peter had formed his own
conclusions as to why he had been set to entertain Madame Mellerie, not
merely from the fact itself, but from the manner in which it had been
done, and most of all, from the way Mrs. D'Alloi had managed to stand
between Leonore and himself, as if protecting the former, till she had
been able to force her arrangements. So with the first stir Peter had
risen, and when the little bustle had ceased he was already standing by
Leonore, talking to her. Mrs. D'Alloi did not look happy, but for the
moment she was helpless.

Peter had had to skirt the group to get to Leonore, and so had stood
behind her during the farewells. She apparently had not noticed his
advent, but the moment she had done the daughter-of-the-house duty, she
turned to him, and said: "I wondered if you would go away without seeing
me. I was so afraid you were one of the men who just say, 'How d'ye do'
and 'Good-bye,' and think they've paid a call."

"I called to see you to-night, and I should not have gone till I had
seen you. I'm rather a persistent man in some things."

"Yes," said Leonore, bobbing her head in a very knowing manner, "Miss De
Voe told me."

"Mr. Stirling," said Mrs. D'Alloi, "can't you tell us the meaning of the
Latin motto on this seal?" Mrs. D'Alloi held a letter towards him, but
did not stir from her position across the room.

Peter understood the device. He was to be drawn off, and made to sit by
Mrs. D'Alloi, not because she wanted to see him, but because she did not
want him to talk to Leonore. Peter had no intention of being dragooned.
So he said: "Madame Mellerie has been telling me what a good Latin
scholar Miss D'Alloi is. I certainly shan't display my ignorance, till
she has looked at it." Then he carried the envelope over to Leonore,
and in handing it to her, moved a chair for her, not neglecting one for
himself. Mrs. D'Alloi looked discouraged, the more when Peter and
Leonore put their heads close together, to examine the envelope.

"'_In bonam partem_,'" read Leonore. "That's easy, mamma. It's--why, she
isn't listening!"

"You can tell her later. I have something to talk to you about."

"What is that?"

"Your dinner in my quarters. Whom would you like to have there?"

"Will you really give me a dinner?"

"Yes."

"And let me have