Dorothy merely said, “Peter!” again. But Peter understood that explanations were in order. He made no attempt to dodge. “Dorothy,” he said softly, giving a glance at Leonore, to see that she was out of hearing, “when you spent that summer with Miss De Voe, did Ray come down every week?” “Yes.” “Would he have come if you had been travelling out west?” “Oh, Peter,” cried Dorothy, below her breath, “I’m so glad it’s come at last!” We hope our readers can grasp the continuity of Dorothy’s mental processes, for her verbal ones were rather inconsequent. “She’s lovely,” continued the verbal process. “And I’m sure I can help you.” “I need it,” groaned Peter. “She doesn’t care in the least for me, and I can’t get her to. And she says she isn’t going to marry for—” “Nonsense!” interrupted Dorothy, contemptuously, and sailed into the ladies’ dressing-room. Peter gazed after her. “I wonder what’s nonsense?” he thought. Dorothy set about her self-imposed task with all the ardor for matchmaking, possessed by a perfectly happy married woman. But Dorothy evidently intended that Leonore should not marry Peter, if one can judge from the tenor of her remarks to Leonore in the dressing-room. Peter liked Dorothy, and would probably not have believed her capable of treachery, but it is left to masculine mind to draw any other inference from the dialogue which took place between the two, as they prinked before a cheval glass. “I’m so glad to have Peter here for this particular evening,” said Dorothy. “Why?” asked Leonore, calmly, in the most uninterested of tones. “Because Miss Biddle is to be here. For two years I’ve been trying to bring those two together, so that they might make a match of it. They are made for each other.” Leonore tucked a rebellious curl in behind the drawn-back lock. Then she said, “What a pretty pin you have.” “Isn’t it? Ray gave it to me,” said Dorothy, giving Leonore all the line she wanted. “I’ve never met Miss Biddle,” said Leonore. “She’s a great beauty, and rich. And then she has that nice Philadelphia manner. Peter can’t abide the young-girl manner. He hates giggling and talking girls. It’s funny too, because, though he doesn’t dance or talk, they like him. But Miss Biddle is an older girl, and can talk on subjects which please him. She is very much interested in politics and philanthropy.” “I thought,” said Leonore, fluffing the lace on her gown, “that Peter never talked politics.” “He doesn’t,” said Dorothy. “But she has studied political economy. He’s willing to talk abstract subjects. She’s just the girl for a statesman’s wife. Beauty, tact, very clever, and yet very discreet. I’m doubly glad they’ll meet here, for she has given up dancing, so she can entertain Peter, who would otherwise have a dull time of it.” “If she wants to,” said Leonore.