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The next day Peter was considerably nearer earth. Not that he didn't
think those eyes just as lovely, and had he been thrown within their
radius, he would probably have been as strongly influenced as ever. But
he was not thrown within their influence, and so his strong nature and
common sense reasserted themselves. He took his coffee, his early
morning ride, and then his work, in their due order. After dinner, that
evening, he only smoked one cigar. When he had done that, he remarked to
himself--apropos of the cigars, presumably--"Peter, keep to your work.
Don't burn yourself again." Then his face grew very firm, and he read a
frivolous book entitled: "Neun atiologische und prophylactische Satze
... uber die Choleraepidemien in Ostindien," till nearly one o'clock.
The following day was Sunday. Peter went to church, and in the afternoon
rode out to Westchester to pass the evening there with Mrs. Costell.
Peter thought his balance was quite recovered. Other men have said the
same thing.


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