When Peter returned from his ride the next day, he found Leonore reading the papers in the big hall. She gave him a very frigid “good-morning,” yet instantly relaxed a little in telling him there was another long telegram for him on the mantel. She said nothing of his reading the despatch to her, but opened a new sheet of paper, and began to read its columns with much apparent interest. That particular page was devoted to the current prices of “Cotton;” “Coffee;” “Flour;” “Molasses;” “Beans;” “Butter;” “Hogs;” “Naval Stores;” “Ocean Freights,” and a large number of equally kindred and interesting subjects. Peter took the telegram, but did not read it. Instead he looked down at all of his pretty “friend” not sedulously hidden by the paper; He recognized that his friend had a distinctly “not-at-home” look, but after a moment’s hesitation he remarked, “You don’t expect me to read this alone?” Silence. “Because,” continued Peter, “it’s an answer to those we wrote and sent yesterday, and I shan’t dare reply it without your advice.” Silence. Peter coolly put his hand on the paper and pushed it down till he could see Leonore’s face. When he had done that he found her fairly beaming. She tried to put on a serious look quickly, and looked up at him with it on. But Peter said, “I caught you,” and laughed. Then Leonore laughed. Then they filled in the space before lunch by translating and answering the telegram. As soon as that meal was over, Peter said, “Now will you teach me waltzing again?” “No.” “Why not?” “I’m not going to spend time teaching a man to dance, who doesn’t dance.” “I was nearly wild to dance last night,” said Peter. “Then why didn’t you?” “Dorothy asked me to do something.” “I don’t think much of men who let women control them.” “I wanted to please Dorothy” said Peter, “I was as well off talking to one girl as to another. Since you don’t like my dancing, I supposed you would hardly choose to dance again with me, or ropes wouldn’t have held me.” “I can talk Italian too,” said Leonore, with no apparent connection. “Will you talk it with me?” said Peter eagerly. “You see, there are a good many Italians in the district, now, who by their ignorance and their not speaking English, are getting into trouble all the time. I want to learn, so as to help them, without calling in an interpreter.” Peter was learning to put his requests on grounds other than his own wishes. “Yes,” said Leonore very sweetly, “and I’ll give you another lesson in dancing. How did you enjoy your ride?” “I like Dorothy,” said Peter, “and I like Miss Biddle. But I didn’t get the ride I wanted.” He got a very nice look from those slate-colored eyes. They set a music-box going, and Peter’s instruction began. When it was over, Leonore said: “You’ve improved wonderfully.” “Well enough to dance with you?” “Yes,” said Leonore. “I’ll take pity on you unless you’d rather talk to some other girl.” Peter only smiled quietly.