The Honorable Peter Stirling and What People Thought of Him. Paul Leicester Ford

dear," said Mr. Pierce, "you really should be a professional mind-reader. Your suggestion comes as an awful revelation to me. Just supposing he should—aye—just supposing he has, fallen in love with Helen!"

      "I really think he has," said Mrs. Pierce, "though he is so different from most men, that I am not sure."

      "Then by all means we must stop him. By the way, how does one stop a man's falling in love?" asked Mr. Pierce.

      "Charles!" said Mrs. Pierce.

      This remark of Mrs. Pierce's generally meant a resort to a handkerchief, and Mr. Pierce did not care for any increase of atmospheric humidity just then. He therefore concluded that since his wit was taken seriously, he would try a bit of seriousness, as an antidote.

      "I don't think there is any occasion to interfere. Whatever Peter does can make no difference, for it is perfectly evident that Helen is nice to him as a sort of duty, and, I rather suspect, to please Watts. So anything she may do will be a favor to him, while the fact that she is attractive to Peter will not lessen her value to—others."

      "Then you don't think—?" asked Mrs. Pierce, and paused there.

      "Don't insult my intelligence," laughed Mr. Pierce. "I do think. I think things can't be going better. I was a little afraid of Mr. Pawling, and should have preferred to have him and his sisters later, but since it is policy to invite them and they could not come at any other time, it was a godsend to have sensible, dull old Peter to keep her busy. If he had been in the least dangerous, I should not have interfered, but I should have made him very ridiculous. That's the way for parents to treat an ineligible man. Next week, when all are gone but Watts, he will have his time, and shine the more by contrast with what she has had this week."

      "Then you think Helen and Watts care for each other?" asked Mrs. Pierce, flushing with pleasure, to find her own opinion of such a delightful possibility supported by her husband's.

      "I think," said Mr. Pierce, "that the less we parents concern ourselves with love the better. If I have made opportunities for Helen and Watts to see something of each other, I have only done what was to their mutual interests. Any courtesy I have shown him is well enough accounted for on the ground of his father's interest in my institution, without the assumption of any matrimonial intentions. However, I am not opposed to a marriage. Watts is the son of a very rich man of the best social position in New York, besides being a nice fellow in himself. Helen will make any man a good wife, and whoever wins her will not be the poorer. If the two can fix it between themselves, I shall cry nunc dimittis, but further than this, the deponent saith and doeth not."

      "I am sure they love each other," said Mrs. Pierce.

      "Well," said Mr. Pierce, "I think if most parents would decide whom it was best for their child to marry, and see that the young people saw just enough of each other, before they saw too much of the world, they could accomplish their purpose, provided they otherwise kept their finger out of the pot of love. There is a certain period in a man's life when he must love something feminine, even if she's as old as his grandmother. There is a certain period in a girl's life when it is well-nigh impossible for her to say 'no' to a lover. He really only loves the sex, and she really loves the love and not the lover; but it is just as well, for the delusion lasts quite as long as the more personal love that comes later. And, being young, they need less breaking for double harness."

      Mrs. Pierce winced. Most women do wince when a man really verges on his true conclusions concerning love in the abstract, however satisfactory his love in the concrete may be to them. "I am sure they love each other," she affirmed.

      "Yes, I think they do," replied Mr. Pierce. "But five years in the world before meeting would have possibly brought quite a different conclusion. And now, my dear, if we are not going to have the young people eloping in the yacht by themselves, we had better leave both the subject and the room, for we have kept them fifteen minutes as it is."

CHAPTER VI.

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A MONOLOGUE AND A DIALOGUE.

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      It was at the end of this day's yachting that Peter was having his "unsocial walk." Early on the morrow he would be taking the train for his native town, and the thought of this, in connection with other thoughts, drew stern lines on his face. His conclusions were something to this effect:

      "I suspected before coming that Watts and Miss Pierce loved each other. I was evidently wrong, for if they did they could not endure seeing so little of each other. How could he know her and not love her? But it's very fortunate for me, for I should stand no chance against him, even supposing I should try to win the girl he loved. She can't care for me! As Watts says, 'I'm an old stupid naturally, and doubly so with girls.' Still, I can't go to-morrow without telling her. I shan't see her again till next winter. I can't wait till then. Some one else—I can't wait."

      Then he strode up and down half a dozen times repeating the last three words over and over again. His thoughts took a new turn.

      "It's simply folly, and you have no right to give in to it. You have your own way to make. You have no right to ask mother for more than the fifteen hundred she says you are to have as an allowance, for you know that if she gave you more, it would be only by scrimping herself. What is fifteen hundred a year to such a girl? Why, her father would think I was joking!"

      Then Peter looked out on the leaden waters and wished it was not cowardly to end the conflict by letting them close over him. The dark color made him think, however, of a pair of slate-colored eyes, so instead of jumping in, he repeated "I can't wait" a few times, and walked with redoubled energy. Having stimulated himself thereby, he went on thinking.

      "She has been so kind to me that—no—she can't care for me. But if she—if by chance—if—supposing she does! Why, the money is nothing. We can wait."

      Peter repeated this last remark several times, clearly showing that he made a great distinction between "I can wait" and "We can wait." Probably the same nice distinction has been made before, and lovers have good authority for the distinction, for many an editor's public "We think" is the exact opposite of his private "I think." Then Peter continued:

      "Of course I shall have difficulty with Mr. Pierce. He's a worldly man. That's nothing, though, if she cares for me. If she cares for me?"

      Peter repeated this last sentence a number of times and seemed to enjoy the prospect it conjured up. He saw Peter Stirling taking a fond farewell of a certain lady. He saw him entering the arena and struggling with the wild beasts, and of course conquering them. He saw the day when his successes would enable him to set up his own fireside. He saw that fireside made perfect by a pair of slate-colored eyes, which breakfast opposite him, follow him as he starts for his work, and greet him on his return. A pair of eyes to love when present, and think of when absent. Heigho! How many firesides and homes have been built out of just such materials!

      From all this the fact can be gathered that Peter was really, despite his calm, sober nature, no more sensible in love matters than are other boys verging on twenty-one. He could not see that success in this love would be his greatest misfortune. That he could not but be distracted from his work. That he would almost certainly marry before he could well afford it, and thus overweight himself in his battle for success. He forgot prudence and common-sense, and that being what a lover usually does, he can hardly be blamed for it.

      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