A moment’s silence came after Peter’s return to the fire. Then he said: “Will you give it to me, Miss D’Alloi?” But his voice in truth, made the words, “Give me what I ask, my darling.” “Yes,” said Leonore softly. “On your birthday.” Then Leonore shrank back a little, as if afraid that her gift would be sought sooner. No young girl, however much she loves a man, is quite ready for that first kiss. A man’s lips upon her own are too contrary to her instinct and previous training to make them an unalloyed pleasure. The girl who is over-ready for her lover’s first kiss, has tasted the forbidden fruit already, or has waited over-long for it. Peter saw the little shrinking and understood it. What was more, he heeded it as many men would not have done. Perhaps there was something selfish in his self-denial, for the purity and girlishness which it indicated were very dear to him, and he hated to lessen them by anything he did. He stood quietly by her, and merely said, “I needn’t tell you how happy I am!” Leonore looked up into Peter’s face. If Leonore had seen there any lack of desire to take her in his arms and kiss her, she would never have forgiven him. But since his face showed beyond doubt that he was longing to do it, Leonore loved him all the better for his repression of self, out of regard for her. She slipped her little hand into Peter’s confidingly, and said, “So am I.” It means a good deal when a girl does not wish to run away from her lover the moment after she has confessed her love. So they stood for some time, Leonore looking down into the fire, and Peter looking down at Leonore. Finally Peter said, “Will you do me a great favor?” “No,” said Leonore, “I’ve done enough for one night. But you can tell me what it is.” “Will you look up at me?” “What for?” said Leonore, promptly looking up. “I want to see your eyes,” said Peter. “Why?” asked Leonore, promptly looking down again. “Well,” said Peter, “I’ve been dreaming all my life about some eyes, and I want to see what my dream is like in reality.” “That’s a very funny request,” said Leonore perversely. “You ought to have found out about them long ago. The idea of any one falling in love, without knowing about the eyes!” “But you show your eyes so little,” said Peter. “I’ve never had a thoroughly satisfying look at them.” “You look at them every time I look at you,” said Leonore. “Sometimes it was very embarrassing. Just supposing that I showed them to you now, and that you find they aren’t what you like?” “I never waste time discussing impossibilities,” said Peter. “Are you going to let me see them?” “How long will it take?” “I can tell better after I’ve seen them,” said Peter, astutely. “I don’t think I have time this evening,” said Leonore, still perversely, though smiling a look of contentment down into the fire.