Peter was very happy and full of enthusiasm about everything, and Betty was an eager listener as he talked about her and himself and the future, while she poured out the tea. It was all very delightful and domestic and new and exhilarating, and it didn't require much imagination on the part of either of them to believe that they were sitting in their own house, far away from people, and that Peter had just come home after a long day's work, and that the band was their new Victrola performing in the corner. Only one thing made Betty aware of the fact that they were in the Ritz Hotel, and that was the pattern of the teacups. She never would have chosen such things, and if they had been given to her as a wedding present she would have packed them away in some far-off cupboard. She had already made up her mind that their first tea service was going to be blue-and-white, because it would go with her drawing-room,--the drawing-room which she had furnished in her dreams. "I don't think you'd better do that, Peter," whispered Betty suddenly. "Do what, darling?" Butter wouldn't have melted in his mouth. "Why, hold my hand. Everybody can see." "Not if you put it behind this end of the tablecloth. Besides, what if they can? I'm not ashamed of being in love. Are you?" "No; I glory in it. But----" "But what?" He held it tighter. "I think you'd better give it back to me. There's an old lady frowning." "Oh, she's only a poor benighted spinster. And anyhow she's not frowning. She put her eyebrows on in the dark." "Very well, Peter. I suppose you know best." And Betty made no further attempts to rescue her hand. She had two good reasons for leaving it there,--the first, that she liked it, and the second that she couldn't take it away. But she made sure that it was hidden by the tablecloth. "Won't you smoke, Peter?" "Oh, thanks. May I?" "All the other men are." Peter took out his case and his cigarette holder. It was very easy to take out a cigarette with one hand, but for the life of him he couldn't manoeuvre it into the tube. Was he so keen to smoke that he would let her hand go? He gave it up and broke into a smile that almost made Betty bend forward and plant a resounding kiss on his square chin. "Well, I'm dashed," he said. "I believe you asked me to smoke on purpose to get free." "I did," she said. "Peter, you're--you're just a darling." And that was why he upset the glass of water. Presently he said, when peace was restored: "What d'you think I've done to-day? I've fixed up a seat in the law office of two friends of mine. They were at Harvard with me--corkers both. I intend to start work next week. Isn't that fine? We're going to mop up all the work in the city. Darling, that apartment of ours is getting nearer and nearer. I shall be a tired business man soon and shall want a home to go to, with a little wife waiting for me." And Betty said: "How soon do you think that'll be?"