Bump!

Down came the air-castle.  Home, fireside, and the slate-colored eyes dissolved into a wooden wharf.  The dream was over.

“Bear a hand here with these lunch-baskets, chum,” called Watts.  “Make yourself useful as well as ornamental.”

And so Peter’s solitary tramp ceased, and he was helping lunch-baskets and ladies to the wharf.

But the tramp had brought results which were quickly to manifest themselves.  As the party paired off for the walk to the Shrubberies, both Watts and Peter joined Miss Pierce, which was not at all to Peter’s liking.

“Go on with the rest, Watts,” said Peter quietly.

Miss Pierce and Watts both stopped short in surprise.

“Eh?” said the latter.

“You join the rest of the party on ahead,” said Peter.

“I don’t understand,” said Watts, who could hardly have been more surprised if Peter had told him to drown himself.

“I want to say something to Miss Pierce,” explained Peter.

Watts caught his breath.  If Peter had not requested his absence and given his reason for wishing it, in Miss Pierce’s hearing, Watts would have formed an instant conclusion as to what it meant, not far from the truth.  But that a man should deliberately order another away, in the girl’s hearing, so that he might propose to her, was too great an absurdity for Watts to entertain for more than a second.  He laughed, and said, “Go on yourself, if you don’t like the company.”

“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.”