“Why not?”

“It’s a horrid day, and I’m in disgrace.”

“For what?”

“For misbehaving last night.  Both mamma and madame say I did very wrong.  I never thought I couldn’t be real friends with you.”  The little lips were trembling slightly.

Peter felt a great temptation to say something strong.  “Why can’t the women let such an innocent child alone?” he thought to himself.  Aloud he said, “If any wrong was done, which I don’t think, it was my fault.  Can I do anything?”

“I don’t believe so,” said Leonore, with a slight unsteadiness in her voice.  “They say that men will always monopolize a girl if she will allow it, and that a really well-mannered one won’t permit it for a moment.”

Peter longed to take her in his arms and lay the little downcast head against his shoulder, but he had to be content with saying:  “I am so sorry they blame you.  If I could only save you from it.”  He evidently said it in a comforting voice, for the head was raised a trifle.

“You see,” said Leonore, “I’ve always been very particular with men, but with you it seemed different.  Yet they both say I stayed too long upstairs, and were dreadfully shocked about the photographs.  They said I ought to treat you like other men.  Don’t you think you are different?”

Yes.  Peter thought he was very different.

“Mr. D’Alloi will see you in the library,” announced the footman at this point.

Peter turned to go, but in leaving he said:  “Is there any pleasure or service I can do, to make up for the trouble I’ve caused you?”

Leonore put her head on one side, and looked a little less grief-stricken.  “May I save that up?” she asked.

“Yes.”

A moment later Peter was shaking hands with Watts.

“This is nice of you.  Quite like old times.  Will you smoke?”

“No.  But please yourself.  I’ve something to talk about.”

“Fire away.”

“Watts, I want to try and win the love of your little girl.”

“Dear old man,” cried Watts, “there isn’t any one in God’s earth whom I would rather see her choose, or to whom I would sooner trust her.”

“Thank you, Watts,” said Peter, gratefully.  “Watts is weak, but he is a good fellow,” was his mental remark.  Peter entirely forgot his opinion of two weeks ago.  It is marvellous what a change a different point of view makes in most people.

“But if I give you my little Dot, you must promise me one thing.”

“What is that?”

“That you will never tell her?  Ah!  Peter, if you knew how I love the little woman, and how she loves me.  From no other man can she learn what will alter that love.  Don’t make my consent bring us both suffering?”

“Watts, I give my word she shall never know the truth from me.”

“God bless you, Peter.  True as ever.  Then that is settled.  You shall have a clear field and every chance.”