“Why, even a stranger would have called last night to inquire about Dot’s health, after such an accident. But for you not to do it, was criminal. If you have aught to say why sentence should not now be passed on you, speak now or forever—no—that’s the wedding ceremony, isn’t it? Not criminal sentence—though, on second thought, there’s not much difference.” “Did you expect me, Miss D’Alloi?” Miss D’Alloi was looking at a shelf of law books with her back to Peter, and was pretending great interest in them. She did not turn, but said “Yes.” “I wish I had known that,” said Peter, with the sincerest regret in his voice. Miss D’Alloi’s interest in legal literature suddenly ceased. She turned and Peter had a momentary glimpse of those wonderful eyes. Either his words or tone had evidently pleased Miss D’Alloi. The corners of her mouth were curving upwards. She made a deep courtesy to him and said: “You will be glad to know, Mr. Stirling, that Miss D’Alloi has suffered no serious shock from her runaway, and passed a good night. It seemed to Miss D’Alloi that the least return she could make for Mr. Stirling’s kindness, was to save him the trouble of coming to inquire about Miss D’Alloi’s health, and so leave Mr. Stirling more time to his grimy old law books.” “There, sir, I hope you are properly crushed for your wrong-doing,” cried Watts. “I’m not going to apologize for not coming,” said Peter, “for that is my loss; but I can say that I’m sorry.” “That’s quite enough,” said Leonore. “I thought perhaps you didn’t want to be friends. And as I like to have such things right out, I made papa bring me down this morning so that I could see for myself.” She spoke with a frankness that seemed to Peter heavenly, even while he grew cold at the thought that she should for a moment question his desire to be friends. “Of course you and Peter will be friends,” said Watts. “But mamma told me last night—after we went upstairs, that she was sure Mr. Stirling would never call.” “Never, Dot?” cried Watts. “Yes. And when I asked her why, she wouldn’t tell me at first, but at last she said it was because he was so unsociable. I shan’t be friends with any one who won’t come to see me.” Leonore was apparently looking at the floor, but from under her lashes she was looking at something else. Whatever Peter may have felt, he looked perfectly cool. Too cool, Leonore thought. “I’m not going to make any vows or protestations of friendship,” he said, “I won’t even pledge myself to come and see you, Miss D’Alloi. Remember, friendship comes from the word free. If we are to be friends, we must each leave the other to act freely.” “Well,” said Leonore, “that is, I suppose, a polite way of saying that you don’t intend to come. Now I want to know why you won’t?” “The reasons will take too long to explain to you now, so I’ll defer the telling till the first time I call on you.” Peter was smiling down at her.