"If that is true, I should think you might take advantage of living so near just a bit oftener than you do. Do you know how long it is since you ’ve been over?" "It seems six months to me," said Peter, smiling. "It is six weeks. Are you so busy all your evenings?" "Pretty busy. And I spend what little spare time I can make with father." "Of course," she agreed, gently. "But I think you need a little more change of scene than you get." "I ’d like it. But I can’t be bothering a girl like you with entertaining an old chap like me." "An old chap!" mused Shirley. "Is that the way you feel?" "I was feeling forty, at least--till the tire blew up. Then I came down to thirty. When I found the girl under the veil, I dropped off several years more. But when I looked at that boy Hille I became a patriarch again." "I wish he could hear you call him a boy! Suppose I give you a special invitation, and run the risk of your bothering me, will you accept it?" "In a hurry!" "Your first spare evening then?" "You tempt me to cut everything and come to-morrow night. No--I ’ll wait a decent interval, to let you get caught up after this midnight dissipation. May I come early?" "The earlier the better." "And you won’t invite anybody else to help make it jolly for me? The last time I ventured over you had a roomful." "I ’ll invite nobody. Come, Peter Bell--do you know I ’m being much nicer to you than I ordinarily am to anybody? I let mother and Olive do the inviting, and I just look demure, as if I did n’t care." "You do care, then, this time?" "It’s time you were off, is n’t it?" and she retreated, laughing, to the open door. Peter looked back at her, an alluring figure, with the lamplight falling over the dull red silk of her frock, and wished he need not go at all. But Grandfather Bell’s tall form appeared just behind Shirley’s. This was an unheard-of hour for Grandfather Bell. So, with a friendly good night and a warm feeling at his heart, Peter bestrode his wheel and was off down the moonlit road toward home. CHAPTER VII CHRISTMAS GREENS "Jane, I’ve the most charming plan in my head for Christmas week you ever heard of." "Have you, Shirley dear? And are you going to tell it to me?" "I am, indeed. Listen. Let’s take cook and Norah, and go--all of us, your houseful and ours--and spend part of holiday week at Grasslands." "Shirley! You take my breath away! Could we do it? Would n’t it be fun if we could?"