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Miss De Voe and Dorothy had told her about Peter, and from their
descriptions, as well as from her father's reminiscences, Leonore had
concluded that Peter was just the friend she had wanted for so long.
That Leonore held her eyes down, and tried to charm yet tantalize her
intended friend, was because Leonore could not help it, being only
seventeen and a girl. If Leonore had felt anything but a friendly
interest and liking, blended with much curiosity, in Peter, she never
would have gone to see him in his office, and would never have talked
and laughed so frankly with him.
As for Peter, he did not put his feelings into good docketed shape. He
did not attempt to label them at all. He had had a delicious half-hour
yesterday. He had decided, the evening before, that he must see those
slate-colored eyes again, if he had to go round the world in pursuit of
them. How he should do it, he had not even thought out, till the next
morning. He had understood very clearly that the owner of those
slate-colored eyes was really an unknown quantity to him.


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