Lispenard laughed good-naturedly. He was used to his cousin’s hits at his do-nothingness, and rather enjoyed them. “He is a big beast, isn’t he? But he’s a nice fellow. We had such a good time over Le Grand’s etchings last night. Didn’t get away till after one. It’s really a pleasure to find a man who can smoke and keep quiet, and yet enjoy things strongly. Le Grand was taken with him too. We just fitted each other.” “I’m glad you took him. I’m going to give him some society.” “Did you ever hear the story of Dr. Brown?” “No. What is it?” “A certain widow announced to her son that she was to marry Dr. Brown. ‘Bully for you, Ma,’ said the son, ‘Does Dr. Brown know it?’” “What do you mean?” Lispenard laughed. “Does Stirling know it? Because I advise you to tell him before you decide to do anything with him. He’s not easy to drive.” “Of course he’ll be glad to meet nice people.” “Try him.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that Peter Stirling won’t give a raparee for all the society you can give him.” “You don’t know what you are talking about.” But Lispenard was right. Peter had enjoyed the dinner at Miss De Voe’s and the evening at Mr. Le Grand’s. Yet each night on reaching his rooms, he had sat long hours in his straight office chair, in the dark. He was thinking of what Miss Leroy had told him of—of—He was not thinking of “Society.” CHAPTER XXVIII. COMMISSIONS. Peter made his dinner call at Miss De Voe’s, but did not find her at home. He received a very pleasant letter expressing her regret at missing him, and a request to lunch with her two days later, and to go with some friends to an afternoon piano recital, “if you care for music. If not, merely lunch with us.” Peter replied that he was very sorry, but business called him to Albany on that day. “I really regret it,” said Miss De Voe to Dorothy. “It is getting so late in the season, that unless he makes his call quickly, I shall hardly be able to give him more than one other chance.” Peter’s business in Albany had been sprung on him suddenly. It was neither more nor less than a request sent verbally through Costell from Governor Catlin, to come up and see him. “It’s about the food and tenement commission bills,” Costell told him. “They’ll be passed by the Senate to-day or to-morrow, and be in Catlin’s hands.” “I hope he’ll make good appointments,” said Peter, anxiously. “I think he will,” said Costell, smiling quietly. “But I don’t believe they will be able to do much. Commissions are commonly a way of staving off legislation.” Peter went up to Albany and saw Catlin. Much to his surprise he found the Governor asking his advice about the bills and the personnel of the commissions. But after a few minutes he found that this seeking for aid and support in all matters was chronic, and meant nothing special in his own case. “Mr. Schlurger tells me, though he introduced the bills, that you drafted both. Do you think I had better sign them?” “Yes.”