just whom I want?"

"Yes."

"Oh, lovely! Let me see. Mamma and papa, of course."

"That's four. Now you can have two more."

"Peter. Would you mind--I mean----" Leonore hesitated a moment and then
said in an apologetic tone--"Would you like to invite madame? I've been
telling her about your rooms--and you--and I think it would please her
so."

"That makes five," said Peter.

"Oh, goody!" said Leonore, "I mean," she said, correcting herself, "that
that is very kind of you."

"And now the sixth?"

"That must be a man of course," said Leonore, wrinkling up her forehead
in the intensity of puzzlement. "And I know so few men." She looked out
into space, and Peter had a moment's fear lest she should see the
marquis, and name him. "There's one friend of yours I'm very anxious to
meet. I wonder if you would be willing to ask him?"

"Who is that?"

"Mr. Moriarty."

"No, I can't ask him, I don't want to cheapen him by making a show of
him."

"Oh! I haven't that feeling about him. I----"

"I think you would understand him and see the fine qualities. But do you
think others would?" Peter mentioned no names, but Leonore understood.

"No," she said. "You are quite right."

"You shall meet him some day," said Peter, "if you wish, but when we can
have only people who won't embarrass or laugh at him."

"Really, I don't know whom to select."

"Perhaps you would like to meet Le Grand?"

"Very much. He is just the man."

"Then we'll consider that settled. Are you free for the ninth?"

"Yes. I'm not going out this spring, and mamma and papa haven't really
begun yet, and it's so late in the season that I'm sure we are free."

"Then I will ice the canvas-backs and champagne and dust off the
Burgundy for that day, if your mamma accedes."

"Peter, I wanted to ask you the other day about that. I thought you
didn't drink wine."

"I don't. But I give my friends a glass, when they are good enough to
come to me. I live my own life, to please myself, but for that very
reason, I want others to live their lives to please themselves. Trying
to live other people's lives for them, is a pretty dog-in-the-manger
business."

Just then Mrs. D'Alloi joined them. "Were you able to translate it?" she
asked, sitting down by them.

"Yes, indeed," said Leonore. "It means 'Towards the right side,' or as a
motto it might be translated, 'For the right side.'"

Mrs. D'Alloi had clearly, to use a western expression, come determined
to