“I have used up your whole afternoon,” he said, apologetically.

“I think,” smiled Miss De Voe, “that we are equal culprits in that.  I leave town to-morrow, Mr. Stirling, but return to the city late in October, and if your work and inclination favor it, I hope you will come to see me again?”

Peter looked at the silver and the china.  Then he looked at Miss De Voe, so obviously an aristocrat.

“I shall be happy to,” he said, “if, when you return, you will send me word that you wish to see me.”

Miss De Voe had slightly caught her breath while Peter hesitated.  “I believe he is going to refuse!” she thought to herself, a sort of stunned amazement seizing her.  She was scarcely less surprised at his reply.

“I never ask a man twice to call on me, Mr. Stirling,” she said, with a slight hauteur in her voice.

“I’m sorry for that,” said Peter quietly.

Miss De Voe caught her breath again.  “Good-afternoon,” she said, holding out her hand.  “I shall hope to see you.”

“Good-bye,” said Peter, and the next moment was walking towards his office.

Miss De Voe stood for a moment thinking.  “That was curious,” she thought, “I wonder if he intends to come?”

The next evening she was dining with relatives in one of the fashionable summering places, and was telling them about her call “from Mr. Stirling, the lawyer who made that splendid speech.”

“I thought,” she said, “when I received the message, that I was going to be buried under a bathos of thanks, or else have my gift declined with the expectation that I would gush over the disinterestedness of the refusal.  Since I couldn’t well avoid seeing him, I was quite prepared to snub him, or to take back the money without a word.  But he wasn’t a bit that kind of creature.  He isn’t self-assured nor tonguey—­rather the reverse.  I liked him so, that I forced him to stay to luncheon, and made him tell me a good deal about himself, without his knowing I was doing so.  He leads a very unusual life, without seeming conscious that he does, and he tells about it very well.  Uses just the right word every time, so that you know exactly what he means, without taxing your own brain to fill up blanks.  He has such a nice voice too.  One that makes you certain of the absolute truth underneath.  No.  He isn’t good looking, though he has fine eyes, and hair.  His face and figure are both too heavy.”

“Is he a gentleman, cousin Anneke?” asked one of the party.

“He is a little awkward, and over-blunt at moments, but nothing to which one would give a second thought.  I was so pleased with him that I asked him to call on me.”

“It seems to me,” said another, “that you are over-paying him.”

“That was the most curious part,” replied Miss De Voe.  “I’m not at all sure that he means to come.  It was really refreshing not to be truckled to, but it is rather startling to meet the first man who does not want to win his way to my visiting list.  I don’t think he even knows who Miss De Voe is.”