“Mother is right,” he had to acknowledge.  “I have grown much thinner.”

However, the ill-fit did not spoil his evening.  He was taken into the family room, and passed a very pleasant hour with the jolly brewer, his friendly wife, and the two “nice girls.”  They were all delighted with Catlin’s election, and Peter had to tell them about his part in it.  They did not let him go when he rose, but took him into the dining-room, where a supper was served at ten.  In leaving a box of candy, saved for him from the Christmas tree, was given him.

“You will come again, Mr. Stirling?” said Mrs. Bohlmann, warmly.

“Thank you,” said Peter.  “I shall be very glad to.”

“Yah,” said Mr. Bohlmann.  “You coom choost as ofden as you blease.”

Peter took his dress-suit to a tailor the next day, and ordered it to be taken in.  That individual protested loudly on the ground that the coat was so old-fashioned that it would be better to make a new suit.  Peter told him that he wore evening dress too rarely to make a new suit worth the having, and the tailor yielded rather than lose the job.  Scarcely had it been put in order, when Peter was asked to dine at his clergyman’s, and the next day came another invitation, to dine with Justice Gallagher.  Peter began to wonder if he had decided wisely in vamping the old suit.

He had one of the pleasantest evenings of his life at Dr. Purple’s.  It was a dinner of ten, and Peter was conscious that a real compliment had been paid him in being included, for the rest of the men were not merely older than himself, but they were the “strong” men of the church.  Two were trustees.  All were prominent in the business world.  And it pleased Peter to find that he was not treated as the youngster of the party, but had his opinions asked.  At one point of the meal the talk drifted to a Bethel church then under consideration, and this in turn brought up the tenement-house question.  Peter had been studying this, both practically and in books, for the last three months.  Before long, the whole table was listening to what he had to say.  When the ladies had withdrawn, there was political talk, in which Peter was much more a listener, but it was from preference rather than ignorance.  One of the men, a wholesale dealer in provisions, spoke of the new governor’s recommendation for food legislation.

“The leaders tell me that the legislature will do something about it,” Peter said.

“They’ll probably make it worse,” said Mr. Avery.

“Don’t you think it can be bettered?” asked Peter.

“Not by politicians.”

“I’m studying the subject,” Peter said.  “Will you let me come down some day, and talk with you about it?”

“Yes, by all means.  You’d better call about lunch hour, when I’m free, and we can talk without interruption.”

Peter would much have preferred to go on discussing with the men, when they all joined the ladies, but Mrs. Purple took him off, and placed him between two women.  They wanted to hear about “the case,” so Peter patiently went over that well-worn subject.  Perhaps he had his pay by being asked to call upon both.  More probably the requests were due to what Mrs. Purple had said of him during the smoking time: