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.
Pages:
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179