“Some of them,” said Leonore, and obtained the bunch.  Who dares to say after that that women have no business ability nor shrewdness?  It is true that she kissed the fraction returned before putting it in Peter’s button-hole, which raises the question which had the best of the bargain.

“I’m behind the curtain, so I can’t see anything,” said a voice from a doorway, “and therefore you needn’t jump; but I wish to inquire if you two want any breakfast?”

A few days later Peter again went up the steps of the Fifty-seventh Street house.  This practice was becoming habitual with Peter; in fact, so habitual that his cabby had said to him this very day, “The old place, sir?” Where Peter got the time it is difficult to understand, considering that his law practice was said to be large, and his political occupations just at present not small.  But that is immaterial.  The simple fact that Peter went up the steps is the essential truth.

From the steps, he passed into a door; from the door he passed into a hall; from a hall he passed into a room; from a room he passed into a pair of arms.

“Thank the Lord, you’ve come,” Watts remarked.  “Leonore has up and down refused to make the tea till you arrived.”

“I was at headquarters, and they would talk, talk, talk,” said Peter.  “I get out of patience with them.  One would think the destinies of the human race depended on this campaign!”

“So the Growley should have his tea,” said a vision, now seated on the lounge at the tea-table.  “Then Growley will feel better.”

“I’m doing that already,” said Growley, sitting down on the delightfully short lounge—­now such a fashionable and deservedly popular drawing-room article.  “May I tell you how you can make me absolutely contented?”

“I suppose that will mean some favor from me,” said Leonore.  “I don’t like children who want to be bribed out of their bad temper.  Nice little boys are never bad-tempered.”

“I was only bad-tempered,” whispered Peter, “because I was kept from being with you.  That’s cause enough to make the best-tempered man in the universe murderous.”

“Well?” said Leonore, mollifying, “what is it this time?”

“I want you all to come down to my quarters this evening after dinner.  I’ve received warning that I’m to be serenaded about nine o’clock, and I thought you would like to hear it.”

“What fun,” cried Leonore.  “Of course we’ll go.  Shall you speak?”

“No.  We’ll sit in my window-seats merely, and listen.”

“How many will there be?”

“It depends on the paper you read.  The ‘World’ will probably say ten thousand, the ‘Tribune’ three thousand, and the ‘Voice of Labor’ ’a handful.’  Oh! by the way, I brought you a ’Voice’.”  He handed Leonore a paper, which he took from his pocket.

Now this was simply shameful of him!  Peter had found, whenever the papers really abused him, that Leonore was doubly tender to him, the more, if he pretended that the attacks and abuse pained him.  So he brought her regularly now that organ of the Labor party which was most vituperative of him, and looked sad over it just as long as was possible, considering that Leonore was trying to comfort him.