Mrs. D’Alloi had clearly, to use a western expression, come determined to “settle down and grow up with the country.” So Peter broached the subject of the dinner, and when she hesitated, Leonore called Watts into the group. He threw the casting ballot in favor of the dinner, and so it was agreed upon. Peter was asked to come to Leonore’s birthday festival, “If you don’t mind such short notice,” and he didn’t mind, apparently. Then the conversation wandered at will till Peter rose. In doing so, he turned to Leonore, and said: “I looked the question of nationality up to-day, and found I was right. I’ve written out a legal opinion in my best hand, and will deliver it to you, on receiving my fee.” “How much is that?” said Leonore, eagerly. “That you come and get it.” CHAPTER XLII. DOWN-TOWN NEW YORK. Peter had not been working long the next morning when he was told that “The Honorable Terence Denton wishes to see you,” “Very well,” he said, and that worthy was ushered in. “Good-morning, Denton. I’m glad to see you. I was going down to the Hall to-day to say something, but you’ve saved me the trouble.” “I know you was. So I thought I’d get ahead of you,” said Denton, with a surly tone and manner. “Sit down,” said Peter. Peter had learned that, with a certain class of individuals, a distance and a seat have a very dampening effect on anger. It is curious, man’s instinctive desire to stand up to and be near the object for which anger is felt. “You’ve been talking against me in the ward, and makin’ them down on me.” “No, I didn’t talk against you. I’ve spoken with some of the people about the way you think of voting on the franchises.” “Yes. I wasn’t round, but a friend heard Dennis and Blunkers a-going over it last night. And it’s you did it.” “Yes. But you know me well enough to be sure, after my talk with you yesterday, that I wouldn’t stop there.” “So you try to set the pack on me.” “No. I try to see how the ward wants its alderman to vote on the franchises.” “Look a-here. What are you so set on the Hummel crowd for?” “I’m not.” “Is it because Hummel’s a big contractor and gives you lots of law business?” “No,” said Peter, smiling. “And you don’t think it is, either.” “Has they offered you some stock cheap?” “Come, come, Denton. You know the _tu quoque_ do here.” Denton shifted in his seat uneasily, not knowing what reply to make. Those two little Latin words had such unlimited powers of concealment in them. He did not know whether _tu quoque_ meant something about votes, an insulting charge, or merely a reply, and feared to make himself ridiculous by his response to them. He was not the first man who has been hampered and floored by his own ignorance. He concluded he must make an entire change of subject to be safe. So he said, “I ain’t goin’ to be no boss’s puppy dog.” “No,” said Peter, finding it difficult not to smile, “you are not that kind of a man.” “I takes my orders from no one.”