But Peter understood that
explanations were in order. He made no attempt to dodge.
"Dorothy," he said softly, giving a glance at Leonore, to see that she
was out of hearing, "when you spent that summer with Miss De Voe, did
Ray come down every week?"
"Yes."
"Would he have come if you had been travelling out west?"
"Oh, Peter," cried Dorothy, below her breath, "I'm so glad it's come at
last!"
We hope our readers can grasp the continuity of Dorothy's mental
processes, for her verbal ones were rather inconsequent.
"She's lovely," continued the verbal process. "And I'm sure I can help
you."
"I need it," groaned Peter. "She doesn't care in the least for me, and I
can't get her to. And she says she isn't going to marry for--"
"Nonsense!" interrupted Dorothy, contemptuously, and sailed into the
ladies' dressing-room.
Peter gazed after her. "I wonder what's nonsense?" he thought.
Dorothy set about her self-imposed task with all the ardor for
matchmaking, possessed by a perfectly happy married woman.
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