“Sorry, old thing! Me. Me, only. Not yet but soon. He sent me up here, away from all the excitement (I _adore_ fires) to tell you he is coming very soon. I thought you might almost have guessed it, but he was very firm with me.” She sighed. “Sunk, without a trace, Peter Piper is, and he glories in his shame.” She sat down in Miss Ada’s father’s chair and looked about her appreciatively. “One nice room, I’ll tell the hotel and Pullman world....” She sighed and shut her bright little eyes with their heavily beaded lashes. “Well, I suppose you’ll let the vestal virgin stay on here, so you can see it when you come back for Old Home Week at the model mill?” “I--we haven’t--nothing is settled yet,” said Glen flushing still more warmly. If only she would go away before---- “I’m not going till he comes,” grinned her guest, “but I’ll go then, on my honor as a gentleman! He made me promise to park here till he came. I think he’s afraid you’ll vanish into thin air, or that the sheik, having wrung the lily neck of his bride, may come to collect his first love. And while we are on that pleasing topic, was I or was I not right about Nancy and the apostle? Certainly I was right. And was I right about Peter Parker? Again yes. (Is there no limit to the woman’s perspicacity?) Well, my child,” she studied her critically, “that hair of yours is now going to be your best parlor trick. I can just imagine the drool the society editors will write about it. And won’t they have a marvelous time dressing you? And doing your rooms for you, and your motors--” she broke off and stared. “I actually believe it hasn’t occurred to you until this moment that you can have anything and do anything and see anything and go anywhere you want, from henceforward and forever!” “It--frightens me!” said Glen, paling. “Well, I’d like a chance to be scared to death that way, myself,” Miss Jennings lighted a cigarette. “Ah--he comes!” She leaned back in the great chair enjoyingly. Peter Parker came quickly up the steps and across the porch and into the room, with Henry Clay Bean following solemnly at his heels, and he looked at Glen and away again, and greeted the other girl warmly. “’Lo, Babe! Thanks a lot for coming and staying.” She got lazily to her feet. “But thanks still more for going, eh, wot, old top?” She paused and looked from one to the other. “No, no, positively, in spite of your pleas, I must exit merrily! I’m going back to the fire.” “It’s under control,” Peter stated. “Just my luck! Well, then, back to the B.V.D., and I bid you a very good evening!” She went close to Glen and gave her a brisk hug. “I could _vivisect_ you!” she said between grinding teeth. “Peter Pan, darling, you’re too maudlin to realize now what you’re letting yourself in for--with a mother _and_ a wife full of good works!” “I shudder,” he said, shaking his head.