rgotten--why
should she hope against hope that this man was different?

At last the customer, who did not hurry in the least--rather the
contrary--wore all excuses for lingering to shreds, she waddled fatly
away, carrying the lace cloak with her; and Win, not shirking the
ordeal as she had done when Jim Logan haunted Toyland, turned to Peter
Rolls.

CHAPTER XXV

A PIECE OF HER MIND

"Miss Child, I've been looking for you for months!" were Peter's first
words when he had her to himself.

Instantly she knew what her pose ought to be. Not prim stiffness, not
suspicious maidenly dignity, but just smiling civility, a recognition
of past slight acquaintance. This would do for the beginning. This
must surely show him that the tactics Ena credited him with were
useless here.

"Have you? How nice of you to say so," she braced herself to reply
with gayest indifference. "Well, I've been in this store for--a long
time, migrating from one department to another and learning the
business. I'm quite a fair saleswoman now, I assure you. Are you going
to buy a cloak? Because, if not--this is a busy morning."

"Yes, I'll buy one as a present for my mother," said Peter. "I should
like you to choose her something. I described her to you once, but I
suppose you've forgotten. She's little, and rather plump, and has
beautiful white hair and a rosy complexion. But, Miss Child, I want to
talk to you, not about cloaks, about yourself. I've asked permission,
and they know who I am, and it's all right. I said you and my sister
were friends. That's true, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes!"

"I believed _we_ were friends once. And we were, too. The more I've
thought of it, the surer I've been. Something happened to make you
change your mind about me. I was struck all of a heap at first. I
didn't have the sense to know what to say or do, to try and put myself
back where I had been. I let you go. And I lost you. But I'm not going
to lose you again. You can see how much in earnest I am when I tell
you that I haven't stopped looking for you for one single day after I
realized you wouldn't keep your promise about writing my sister."

"It wasn't a promise," breathed Win. "I--never meant to write to her."

"I thought so!"

"Why should I? It was very kind of Miss Rolls to suggest it, if I
should ever want help. But I didn't want help. All I wanted was to get
on by myself."

"I know you mean me to understand from that, Miss Child, that you
don't