I waited with much irritation until the dance was to its end and Peg at liberty. I remembered, however, in her defence, that Peg was not aware of Pigeon-breast for one who had sought her harm. No one had told her of that splendid long speech to the General when Pigeon-breast chose to represent “Mrs. Calhoun and the ladies of Washington,” which latter term, under the scorching fire of Peg's successes, had dwindled to a sour handful scarce equal to the task of filling a dinner table or constructing a quadrille. “Why should you dance,” said I, when now I had gotten Peg by herself near a window, “why should you dance with such a coxcomb?” “You mean,” returned Peg, “to tell me that he is no friend. As for that, I've known him for an ill-wisher and, as far as his frail strength went, an ill-doer, from the beginning.” “And how would that news come to you?” said I. “Has the rogue said anything?” “Not so fierce, watch-dog, not so fierce!” whispered Peg. “Folk present are not cognizant of your mastiff sort and might wonder to learn of it. Wherefore, go quietly about me with your guardianship.” Peg would be amused by the energy of my distaste of Pigeon-breast. “The 'rogue' has said nothing. I knew he was my wrong-wisher from yourself.” “Me?” cried I. “And how should you have had it from me when I have not breathed of the popinjay's existence?” “How? Why, from your face, where I've been long wont to read much more than your tongue has ever told.” “What of my face, then?” “And I have wished you might see it! Whoever it was to approach me, I had but to watch your brow. Was your brow frank, open, friendly: he who came was a friend. Did you lower and gloom hatefully: he was an enemy who rapped at the gate. Now you gave this fop the look of a fiend when one day he would pass us in the square. And so by the light, or rather the twilight of your frown, I read him.” “All exceeding clever,” said I, half made to laugh by the airy fashion wherein Peg would toss this off, “all exceeding clever. But it brings me with interest to my question, why, then, did you honor him with a dance?” “For the same reason,” said Peg, with a look of funny malice, “that an Indian scalps his foe.” “Now what should that mean?” “Wait and see, oh watch-dog!” It was a bit later when Peg was again by my side. “Do you know why I am back with you?” she asked. “Well, aside from the profound pleasure of your company, the more profound by contrast with that of those vapid ones”--here she would include the ball room males with a sweep of her round arm--“I thought I would scalp my enemy before your eyes. You have a violent nature, watch-dog, and I reflected how the exhibition might bring you joy. Since you do not dance, your time must lie on your hands like iron; I would do somewhat to lighten it.” Before I could ask Peg to unravel the intent of her long speech, Pigeon-breast was pushing valourously our way.