ght him a letter from Watts, announcing that they
had been four days installed in their Newport home, and that Peter would
now be welcome any time. "I have purposely not filled Grey-Court this
summer, so that you should have every chance. Between you and me and the
post, I think there have been moments when mademoiselle missed 'her
friend' far more than she confessed."

"Dat's stronory," thought Jenifer. "He dun eat mo' dis yar hot mo'nin'
dan he dun in two mumfs."

Then Jenifer was sent out with a telegram, which merely said: "May I
come to-day by Shore line limited? P.S."

"When you get back, Jenifer," said Peter, "you may pack my trunk and
your own. We may start for Newport at two." Evidently Peter did not
intend to run any risks of missing the train, in case the answer should
be favorable.

Peter passed into his office, and set to work to put the loose ends in
such shape that nothing should go wrong during his absence. He had not
worked long, when one of the boys told him that:

"Mr. Cassius Curlew wants to see you, Mr. Stirling."

Peter stopped his writing, looking up quickly: "Did he say on what
business?"

"No."

"Ask him, please." And Peter went on writing till the boy returned.

"He says it's about the convention."

"Tell him he must be more specific."

The boy returned in a moment with a folded scrap of paper.

"He said that would tell you, Mr. Stirling."

Peter unfolded the scrap, and read upon it: "A message from Maguire."

"Show him in." Peter touched a little knob on his desk on which was
stamped "Chief Clerk." A moment later a man opened a door. "Samuels,"
said Peter, "I wish you would stay here for a moment. I want you to
listen to what's said."

The next moment a man crossed the threshold of another door.
"Good-morning, Mr. Stirling," he said.

"Mr. Curlew," said Peter, without rising and with a cold inclination of
his head.

"I have a message for you, Mr. Stirling," said the man, pulling a chair
into a position that suited him, and sitting, "but it's private."

Peter said nothing, but began to write.

"Do you understand? I want a word with you private," said the man after
a pause.

"Mr. Samuels is my confidential clerk. You can speak with perfect
freedom before him." Peter spoke without raising his eyes from his
writing.

"But I don't want any one round. It's just between you and me."

"When I got your message," said Peter, still writing, "I sent for Mr.
Samuels. If you ha