“Oh from the very beginning, that I can remember, papa was always talking about ‘dear old Peter’”—the talker said the last three words in such a tone, shot such a look up at Peter, half laughing and half timid, that in combination they nearly made Peter reel in his saddle—“and you seemed almost the only one of his friends he did speak of, so I became very curious about you as a little girl, and then Miss De Voe made me more interested, so that I began questioning Americans, because I was really anxious to learn things concerning you. Nearly every one did know something, so I found out a great deal about you.” Peter was realizing for the first time in his life, how champagne made one feel. “Tell me whom you found who knew anything about me?” “Oh, nearly everybody knew something. That is, every one we’ve met in the last five years. Before that, there was Miss De Voe, and grandpapa, of course, when he came over in 1879—” “But,” interrupted Peter, “I don’t think I had met him once before that time, except at the Shrubberies.” “No, he hadn’t seen you. But he knew a lot about you, from Mr. Lapharn and Mr. Avery, and some other men who had met you.” “Who else?” “Miss Leroy, mamma’s bridesmaid, who spent two weeks at our villa near Florence, and Dr. Purple, your clergyman, who was in the same house with us at Ober-Ammergau, and—and—oh the best were Mr. and Mrs. Rivington. They were in Jersey, having their honeymoon. They told me more than all the rest put together.” “I feel quite safe in their hands. Dorothy and I formed a mutual admiration society a good many years ago.” “She and Mr. Rivington couldn’t say enough good of you.” “You must make allowance for the fact that they were on their wedding journey, and probably saw everything rose-colored.” “That was it. Dorothy told me about your giving Mr. Rivington a full partnership, in order that Mr. Ogden should give his consent.” Peter laughed. “Ray swore that he wouldn’t tell. And Dorothy has always appeared ignorant. And yet she knew it on her wedding trip.” “She couldn’t help it. She said she must tell some one, she was so happy. So she told mamma and me. She showed us your photograph. Papa and mamma said it was like you, but I don’t think it is.”