There were already two girls in the room.  One was evidently a caller.  The other, a girl with a sweet, kindly, German face, was obviously one of the “nice” daughters.  His arrival checked the flow of conversation somewhat, but they went on comparing their summer experiences.  When the butler came back and said aloud, “Mr. Bohlmann will see you in the library, Mr. Stirling,” Peter noticed that both girls turned impulsively to look at him, and that the daughter flushed red.

He found Mr. Bohlmann standing uneasily on the rug by the fireplace, and a stout woman gazing out of the window, with her back to the room.

“I had a call from your lawyer this morning, Mr. Bohlmann,” said Peter, “and I have taken the liberty of coming to see you about the cases.”

“Sid down, sid down,” said his host, nervously, though not sitting himself.

Peter sat down.  “I want to do what is best about the matter,” he said.

The woman turned quickly to look at him, and Peter saw that there were tears in her eyes.

“Vell,” said the brewer, “what is dat?”

“I don’t know,” said Peter, “and that’s why I’ve come to see you.”

Mr. Bohlmann’s face worked for a moment.  Then suddenly he burst into tears.  “I give you my word, Mr. Stirling,” he said, “that I didn’t know it was so.  I haven’t had a happy moment since you spoke that day in court.”  He had heretofore spoken in English with a slight German accent.  But this he said in German.  He sat down at the table and buried his face in his arms.  His wife, who was also weeping, crossed to him, and tried to comfort him by patting him on the back.

“I think,” said Peter, “we had best drop the suits.”

Mr. Bohlmann looked up.  “It is not the money, Mr. Stirling,” he said, still speaking in German.  “See.”  He drew from a drawer in his desk a check-book, and filling up a check, handed it to Peter.  It was dated and signed, but the amount was left blank.  “There,” he said, “I leave it to you what is right.”

“I think Mr. Dummer will feel we have not treated him fairly,” said Peter, “if we settle it in this way.”

“Do not think of him.  I will see that he has no cause for complaint,” the brewer said.  “Only let me know it is ended, so that my wife and my daughters—­” he choked, and ended the sentence thus.

“Very well,” said Peter.  “We’ll drop the suits.”

The husband and wife embraced each other in true German fashion.

Peter rose and came to the table.  “Three of the cases were for five thousand each, and the other two were for two thousand each,” he said, and then hesitated.  He wished to be fair to both sides.  “I will ask you to fill in the check for eight thousand dollars.  That will be two each for three, and one each for two.”

Mr. Bohlmann disengaged himself from his wife, and took his pen.  “You do not add your fee,” he said.

“I forgot it,” laughed Peter, and the couple laughed with him in their happiness.  “Make it for eight thousand, two hundred and fifty.”