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Peter apparently became much abstracted over his cigar, but the
abstraction was not perhaps very deep, for he was on his feet the moment
Watts rose, and was the first to cross the hall into the drawing-room.
He took a quick glance round the room, and then crossed to a sofa.
Dorothy and--and some one else were sitting on it.
"Speaking of angels," said Dorothy.
"I wasn't speaking of you," said Peter. "Only thinking."
"There," said Leonore. "Now if Mrs. Grinnell had only heard that."
Peter looked a question, so Leonore continued:
"We were talking about you. I don't understand you. You are so different
from what I had been told to think you. Every one said you were very
silent and very uncomplimentary, and never joked, but you are not a bit
as they said, and I thought you had probably changed, just as you had
about the clothes. But Mrs. Grinnell says she never heard you make a
joke or a compliment in her life, and that at the Knickerbocker they
call you 'Peter, the silent.


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