wed. To all others what they said and did could only be the
sayings and doings of two very intolerable people. But to them it was
what can never be told in words--and to them we will leave it.

It was Leonore who put an end to this week. Each day that Peter lingered
brought letter and telegraphic appeals to him from the party-leaders,
over which Peter only laughed, and which he not infrequently failed even
to answer. But Mr. Pell told Leonore something one day which made her
say to Peter later:

"Is it true that you promised to speak in New York on the fifteenth?"

"Yes. But I wrote Green last night saying I shan't."

"And were you to have made a week of speeches through the State?"

"Yes. But I can't spare the time."

"Yes, you can. You must leave to-morrow and make them."

"I can't," groaned Peter.

"You must."

"Who says so?"

"I do. Please, Peter? I so want to see you win. I shall never forgive
myself if I defeat you."

"But a whole week," groaned Peter.

"We shall break up here on the eighteenth, and of course you would have
to leave a day sooner. So you'll not be any better off."

"Well," sighed Peter, "If I do as you want, will you give me the seven I
shall lose before I go."

"Dear me, Peter," sighed Leonore, "you oughtn't to ask them, since it's
for your own sake. I can't keep you contented. You do nothing but
encroach."

"I should get them if I was here," said Peter, "And one a day is little
enough! I think, if I oblige you by going away, I shouldn't be made to
suffer more than is necessary."

"I'm going to call you Growley," said Leonore, patting him on the cheek.
Then she put her own against it. "Thank you, dear," she said. "It's just
as hard for me."

So Peter buckled on his armor and descended into the arena. Whether he
spoke well or ill, we leave it to those to say who care to turn back to
the files of the papers of that campaign. Perhaps, however, it may be
well to add that an entirely unbiassed person, after reading his opening
speeches, delivered in the Cooper Union and the Metropolitan Opera
House, in New York City, wrote him: "It is libel to call you
Taciturnity. They are splendid! How I wish I could hear you--and see
you, dear. I'm very lonely, and so are Betise and Tawney-eye. We do
nothing but wander round the house all day, waiting for your letter, and
the papers." Three thousand people in the Brooklyn Rink were kept
waiting for nearly ten minutes by Peter's perusal of that