As he drew up at the stepping-stone, Mr. Harry jumped in. "Well, Peter," he said, in a voice which was meant to be cheerful, but was a very poor imitation, "we must drive fast if we're to make the four-thirty train." "Yes, sir," said Peter, briskly clicking to the horses, and for once he thanked his stars that the station was four miles away. A great resolve had been growing in his mind, and it required some time and a good deal of courage to carry it out. He glanced sideways at the grim, pale face beside him, and cleared his throat uneasily. "Beggin' yer pardon," he began, "I was at the library door to ask about the filly, an' without meanin' to, I heard why you was goin' away." A quick flush spread over Mr. Harry's face, and he glanced angrily at his coachman. "The devil!" he muttered. "Yes, sir," said Peter. "I suppose ye'll be dischargin' me, Mr. Harry, for speakin', but I feel it's me dooty, and I can't keep quiet. Beggin' yer pardon, sir, I've knowed Miss Ethel longer than you have. I was servin' at Willowbrook all the time that ye was in boardin' school an' college. Her hair was hangin' down her back an' she was drivin' a pony cart when I first come. I watched her grow and I know her ways--there was times, sir, when she was most uncommon troublesome. She's the kind of a woman as needs managin', and if ye'll excuse me for sayin' so, it takes a man to do it. Ye're too quiet an' gentleman-like, Mr. Harry. Though I guess she likes to have ye act like a gentleman, when ye can't do both she'd rather have ye act like a man. If I was her husband----" "You forget yourself, Peter!" "Yes, sir. Beg yer pardon, sir, but as I was sayin', if I was her husband, I'd let her see who was master pretty quick, an' she'd like me the better. And if she ever told me she would be glad for me to go away an' never come back, I'd look at her black like with me arms folded, and I'd say: 'Ye would, would ye? In that case I'll stay right here an' niver go away.' An' then she'd be so mad she'd put her head down on the back o' the chair an' cry, deep like, the way she always did when she couldn't have what she wanted, an' I'd wait with a frown on me brow, an' when she got through she'd be all over it, an' would ask me pardon sorrowful like; an' I'd wait a while an' let it soak in, an' then I'd forgive her." Mr. Harry stared at Peter, too amazed to speak. "Yes, sir," Peter resumed, "I've watched Miss Ethel grow up, and I knows her like her own mother, as ye might say. I've drove her to and from the town for thirteen years, and I've rode after her many miles on horseback, an' when she felt like it she would talk to me as chatty as if I weren't a groom. She was always that way with the servants; she took an interest in our troubles, an' we all liked her spite o' the fact that she was a bit over-rulin'." Mr. Harry knit his brows and stared ahead without speaking, and Peter glanced at him uneasily and hesitated.