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Now, will
you give me your hand?"
"He is speaking the truth," thought Mrs. D'Alloi, as Peter spoke. She
held out her hand. "I will trust her to you if she chooses you."
Half an hour later, Peter went back to the drawing-room, to find Leonore
reposing in an exceedingly undignified position before the fire on a big
tiger-skin, and stroking a Persian cat, who, in delight at this enviable
treatment, purred and dug its claws into the rug. Peter stood for a time
watching the pretty tableau, wishing he was a cat.
"Yes, Tawney-eye," said Leonore, in heartrending tones, "it isn't a good
day at all."
"I'm going to quarrel with you on that," said Peter. "It's a glorious
day."
Leonore rose from the skin. "Tawney-eye and I don't think so."
"But you will. In the first place I've explained about the monopoly and
the photographs to your mamma, and she says she did not understand it,
and that no one is to blame. Secondly, she says I'm to stay to dinner
and am to monopolize you till then.


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