. Leonore knelt down
on the ground beside him, regardless of the proprieties or the damp. She
listened to hear if he was breathing, and when she found that he
actually was, her face had on it a little thanksgiving proclamation of
its own. Then with the prettiest of motherly manners, she softly pulled
the blanket up and tucked it in about his arms. Then she looked to see
if there was not something else to do. But there was nothing. So she
made more. "The poor dear oughtn't to sleep without something on his
head. He'll take cold." She took her handkerchief and tried to fix it so
that it should protect Peter's head. She tried four different ways, any
one of which would have served; but each time she thought of a better
way, and had to try once more. She probably would have thought of a
fifth, if Peter had not suddenly opened his eyes.

"Oh!" said Leonore, "what a shame? I've waked you up. And just as I had
fixed it right."

Peter studied the situation calmly, without moving a muscle. He looked
at the kneeling figure for some time. Then he looked up at the arc light
a little distance away. Then he looked at the City Hall clock. Then his
eyes came back to Leonore. "Peter," he said finally, "this is getting to
be a monomania. You must stop it."

"What?" said Leonore, laughing at his manner as if it was intended as a
joke.

Peter put out his hand and touched Leonore's dress. Then he rose quickly
to his feet. "What is the matter?" he asked.

"Hello," cried Watts. "Have you come to? Well. Here we are, you see. All
the way from Newport to see you in fragments, only to be disappointed.
Shake!"

Peter said nothing for a moment. But after he had shaken hands, he said,
"It's very good of you to have thought of me."

"Oh," explained Leonore promptly, "I'm always anxious about my friends.
Mamma will tell you I am."

Peter turned to Leonore, who had retired behind her mother. "Such
friends are worth having," he said, with a strong emphasis on "friends."

Then Leonore came out from behind her mother. "'How nice he's stupid,"
she thought. "He is Peter Simple, after all."

"Well," said Watts, "'your friends are nearly dying with hunger and want
of sleep, so the best thing we can do, since we needn't hunt for you in
scraps, is to go to the nearest hotel. Where is that?"

"You'll have to go uptown," said Peter. "Nothing down here is open at
this time."

"I'm not sleepy," said Leonore, "but I am so hungry!"

"Serves you right