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"Let me see. What
shall I call you?" she asked of Peter.
"Honey," laughed Watts.
"What shall I call you?" Miss D'Alloi put her head on one side, and
looked at Peter out of the corners of her eyes.
"You must decide that, Miss D'Alloi."
"I suppose I must. I--think--I--shall--call--you--Peter." She spoke
hesitatingly till she said his name, but that went very smoothly. Peter
on the spot fell in love with the five letters as she pronounced them.
"Plain Peter?" inquired Watts.
"Now what will you call me?"
"Miss D'Alloi," said Peter.
"No. You--are--to--call--me--call--me--"
"Miss D'Alloi," re-affirmed Peter.
"Then I will call you Mr. Stirling, Peter."
"No, you won't."
"Why?"
"Because you said you'd call me Peter."
"But not if you won't--"
"You made no condition at the time of promise. Shall I show you the
law?"
"No. And I shall not call you Peter, any more, Peter."
"Then I shall prosecute you."
"But I should win the case, for I should hire a friend of mine to defend
me.


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