"No," replied Miss Pierce.

"Because, unless there is--is some one else," continued Peter, "I shall
not----"

"There is," interrupted Miss Pierce, the determination in Peter's voice
frightening her info disclosing her secret.

Peter said to himself, "It is Watts after all." He was tempted to say it
aloud, and most men in the sting of the moment would have done so. But
he thought it would not be the speech of a gentleman. Instead he said,
"Thank you." Then he braced himself, and added: "Please don't let my
love cause you any sorrow. It has been nothing but a joy to me.
Good-night and good-bye."

He did not even offer to shake hands in parting. They went into the
hallway together, and leaving the rest of the party, who were already
raiding the larder for an impromptu supper, to their own devices, they
passed upstairs, Miss Pierce to bathe her eyes and Peter to pack his
belongings.

"Where are Helen and Stirling?" inquired Mr. Pierce when the time came
to serve out the Welsh rarebit he was tending.

"They'll be along presently," said Watts. "Helen forgot something, and
they went back after it."

"They will be properly punished by the leathery condition of the
rarebit, if they don't hurry. And as we are all agreed that Stirling is
somewhat lacking in romance, he will not get a corresponding pleasure
from the longer stroll to reward him for that. There, ladies and
gentlemen, that is a rarebit that will melt in your mouth, and make the
absent ones regret their foolishness. As the gourmand says in
'Richelieu,' 'What's diplomacy compared to a delicious pate?'"

CHAPTER VII.

FACING THE WORLD.

Army surgeons recognize three types of wounded. One type so nervous,
that it drops the moment it is struck, whether the wound is disabling or
not. Another so nerveless, that it fights on, unconscious that it has
been hit. A third, who, feeling the wound, goes on fighting, sustained
by its nerve. It is over the latter sort that the surgeons shake their
heads and look anxious.

Peter did his packing quietly and quickly, not pausing for a moment in
the task. Then he went downstairs, and joined the party, just finishing
the supper. He refused, it is true, to eat anything, and was quiet, but
this phase was so normal in him, that it occasioned no remark. Asked
where Miss Pierce was, he explained briefly that he had left her in the
hall, in order to do his packing and had not seen her since.

In a few moments the party