u look up at me?"

"What for?" said Leonore, promptly looking up.

"I want to see your eyes," said Peter.

"Why?" asked Leonore, promptly looking down again.

"Well," said Peter, "I've been dreaming all my life about some eyes, and
I want to see what my dream is like in reality."

"That's a very funny request," said Leonore perversely. "You ought to
have found out about them long ago. The idea of any one falling in love,
without knowing about the eyes!"

"But you show your eyes so little," said Peter. "I've never had a
thoroughly satisfying look at them."

"You look at them every time I look at you," said Leonore. "Sometimes it
was very embarrassing. Just supposing that I showed them to you now, and
that you find they aren't what you like?"

"I never waste time discussing impossibilities," said Peter. "Are you
going to let me see them?"

"How long will it take?"

"I can tell better after I've seen them," said Peter, astutely.

"I don't think I have time this evening," said Leonore, still
perversely, though smiling a look of contentment down into the fire.

Peter said nothing for a moment, wishing to give Leonore's conscience a
chance to begin to prick. Then be ended the silence by saying: "If I had
anything that would give you pleasure, I wouldn't make you ask for it
twice."

"That's--different," said Leonore. "Still, I'll--well, look at them,"
and Leonore lifted her eyes to Peter's half laughingly and half timidly.

Peter studied those eyes in silence--studied them till Leonore, who did
not find that steady look altogether easy to bear, and yet was not
willing to confess herself stared out of countenance, asked: "Do you
like them?"

"Yes," said Peter.

"Is that all you can say? Other people have said very complimentary
things!" said Leonore, pretending to be grieved over the monosyllable,
yet in reality delighting in its expressiveness as Peter said it.

"I think," said Peter, "that before I can tell you what I think of your
eyes, we shall have to invent some new words."

Leonore looked down again into the fire, smiling a satisfied smile.
Peter looked down at that down-turned head, also with a satisfied smile.
Then there was another long silence. Incidentally it is to be noted that
Peter still held the hand given him some time before. To use a poker
term, Peter was standing "pat," and wished no change. Once or twice the
little hand had hinted that it had been held long enough, but Peter did
not t