“No,” said Peter. “I want you to go on.” Peter spoke quietly, but there was an inflexion in his singularly clear voice, which had more command in it than a much louder tone in others. Watts had learned to recognize it, and from past experience knew that Peter was not to be moved when he used it. But here the case was different. Hitherto he had been trying to make Peter do something. Now the boot was on the other leg, and Watts saw therein a chance for some fun. He therefore continued to stand still, as they had all done since Peter had exploded his first speech, and began to whistle. Both men, with that selfishness common to the sex, failed entirely to consider whether Miss Pierce was enjoying the incident. “I think,” remarked Miss Pierce, “that I will leave you two to settle it, and run on with the rest.” “Don’t,” spoke Peter quickly. “I have something to say to you.” Watts stopped his whistling. “What the deuce is the old boy up to?” he thought to himself. Miss Pierce hesitated. She wanted to go, but something in Peter’s voice made it very difficult. “I had no idea he could speak so decidedly. He’s not so tractable as I thought. I think Watts ought to do what he asks. Though I don’t see why Mr. Stirling wants to send him away,” she said to herself. “Watts,” said Peter, “this is the last chance I shall really have to thank Miss Pierce, for I leave before breakfast to-morrow.” There was nothing appealing in the way it was said. It seemed a mere statement of a fact. Yet something in the voice gave it the character of a command. “’Nough said, chum,” said Watts, feeling a little cheap at his smallness in having tried to rob Peter of his farewell. The next moment he was rapidly overtaking the advance-party. By all conventions there should have been an embarrassing pause after this extraordinary colloquy, but there was not. When Peter decided to do a thing, he never faltered in the doing. If making love or declaring it had been a matter of directness and plain-speaking, Peter would have been a successful lover. But few girls are won by lovers who carry business methods and habits of speech into their courtship. “Miss Pierce,” said Peter, “I could not go without thanking you for your kindness to me. I shall never forget this week.” “I am so glad you have enjoyed it,” almost sang Miss Pierce, in her pleasure at this reward for her week of self-sacrifice. “And I couldn’t go,” said Peter, his clear voice suddenly husking, “without telling you how I love you.” “Love me!” exclaimed Miss Pierce, and she brought the walk again to a halt, in her surprise. “Yes,” replied Peter simply, but the monosyllable meant more than the strongest protestations, as he said it. “Oh,” almost cried his companion, “I am so sorry.” “Don’t say that,” said Peter; “I don’t want it to be a sorrow to you.” “But it’s so sudden,” gasped Miss Pierce.