ou'll allow a little thing
like being in love with a woman to keep you back from professing the
true faith."

"Ah, if I were convinced that it is true," he sighed, still laughing.

"What call have you to doubt it? And anyhow, what does it matter whether
you 're convinced or not? I remember, when I was a school-girl, I never
was myself convinced of the theorems of Euclid; but I professed them
gladly, for the sake of the marks they brought; and the eternal verities
of mathematics remained unshaken by my scepticism."

"Your reasoning is subtle," laughed Peter. "But the worst of it is, if I
were ten times a Catholic, she wouldn't have me. So what's the use?"

"You never can tell whether a woman will have you or not, until you
offer yourself. And even if she refuses you, is that a ground for
despair? My own husband asked me three times, and three times I said no.
And then he took to writing verses--and I saw there was but one way to
stop him. So we were married. Ask her; ask her again--and again. You can
always resort in the end to versification. And now," the lady concluded,
rising, "I have spoken, and I leave you to your fate. I'm obliged
to return to the hotel, to hold a bed of justice. It appears that my
innocent darlings, beyond there, innocent as they look, have managed
among them to break the electric light in my sitting-room. They're to be
arraigned before me at three for an instruction criminelle. Put what I
've said in your pipe, and smoke it--'tis a mother's last request. If
I 've not succeeded in determining you, don't pretend, at least, that I
haven't encouraged you a bit. Put what I 've said in your pipe, and see
whether, by vigorous drawing, you can't fan the smouldering fires of
encouragement into a small blaze of determination."

Peter resumed his stroll backwards and forwards by the lakeside.
Encouragement was all very well; but... "Shall I--shall I not? Shall
I--shall I not? Shall I--shall I not?" The eternal question went
tick-tack, tick-tack, to the rhythm of his march. He glared at vacancy,
and tried hard to make up his mind.

"I'm afraid I must be somewhat lacking in decision of character," he
said, with pathetic wonder.

Then suddenly he stamped his foot.

"Come! An end to this tergiversation. Do it. Do it," cried his manlier
soul.

"I will," he resolved all at once, drawing a deep breath, and clenching
his fists.

He left the Casino, and set forth to walk to Ventirose. He could not
wait