CHAPTER XLIV.
A GOOD DAY.
The next day it was raining torrents, but despite this, and to the utterneglect of his law business, Peter drove up-town immediately afterlunch, to the house in Fifty-seventh Street. He asked for Watts, butwhile he was waiting for the return of the servant, he heard a lightfoot-step, and turning, he found Leonore fussing over some flowers. Atthe same moment she became conscious of his presence.
"Good-day," said Peter.
"It isn't a good day at all," said Leonore, in a disconsolate voice,holding out her hand nevertheless.
"Why not?"
"It's a horrid day, and I'm in disgrace."
"For what?"
"For misbehaving last night. Both mamma and madame say I did very wrong.I never thought I couldn't be real friends with you." The little lipswere trembling slightly.
Peter felt a great temptation to say something strong. "Why can't thewomen let such an innocent child alone?" he thought to himself. Aloud hesaid, "If any wrong was done, which I don't think, it was my fault. CanI do anything?"
"I don't believe so," said Leonore, with a slight unsteadiness in hervoice. "They say that men will always monopolize a girl if she willallow it, and that a really well-mannered one won't permit it for amoment."
Peter longed to take her in his arms and lay the little downcast headagainst his shoulder, but he had to be content with saying: "I am sosorry they blame you. If I could only save you from it." He evidentlysaid it in a comforting voice, for the head was raised a trifle.
"You see," said Leonore, "I've always been very particular with men, butwith you it seemed different. Yet they both say I stayed too longupstairs, and were dreadfully shocked about the photographs. They said Iought to treat you like other men. Don't you think you are different?"
Yes. Peter thought he was very different.
"Mr. D'Alloi will see you in the library," announced the footman at thispoint.
Peter turned to go, but in leaving he said: "Is there any pleasure orservice I can do, to make up for the trouble I've caused you?"
Leonore put her head on one side, and looked a little lessgrief-stricken. "May I save that up?" she asked.
"Yes."
A moment later Peter was shaking hands with Watts.
"This is nice of you. Quite like old times. Will you smoke?"
"No. But please yourself. I've something to talk about."
"Fire away."
"Watts, I want to try and win the love of your little girl."
"Dear old man," cried Watts, "there isn't any one in God's earth whom Iwould rather see her choose, or to whom I would sooner trust her."
"Thank you, Watts," said Peter, gratefully. "Watts is weak, but he is agood fellow," was his mental remark. Peter entirely forgot his opinionof two weeks ago. It is marvellous what a change a different point ofview makes in most people.
"But if I give you my little Dot, you must promise me one thing."
"What is that?"
"That you will never tell her? Ah! Peter, if you knew how I love thelittle woman, and how she loves me. From no other man can she learn whatwill alter that love. Don't make my consent bring us both suffering?"
"Watts, I give my word she shall never know the truth from me."
"God bless you, Peter. True as ever. Then that is settled. You shallhave a clear field and every chance."
"I fear not. There's something more. Mrs. D'Alloi won't pardon thatincident--nor do I blame her. I can't force my presence here if she doesnot give her consent. It would be too cruel, even if I could hope tosucceed in spite of her. I want to see her this morning. You can tellbetter than I whether you had best speak to her first, or whether Ishall tell her."
"H'm. That is a corker, isn't it? Don't you think you had better letthings drift?"
"No. I'm not going to try and win a girl's love behind the mother'sback. Remember, Watts, the mother is the only one to whom a girl can goat such a time. We mustn't try to take advantage of either."
"Well, I'll speak to her, and do my best. Then I'll send her to you.Help yourself to the tobacco if you get tired of waiting _tout seul_."
Watts went upstairs and knocked at a door. "Yes," said a voice. Wattsput his head in. "Is my Rosebud so busy that she can't spare her lover afew moments?"
"Watts, you know I live for you."
Watts dropped down on the lounge. "Come here, then, like a loving littlewife, and let me say my little say."
No woman nearing forty can resist a little tenderness in her husband,and Mrs. D'Alloi snuggled up to Watts in the pleasantest frame of mind.Watts leaned over and kissed her cheek. Then Mrs. D'Alloi snuggled somemore.
"Now, I want to talk with you seriously, dear," he said. "Who do youthink is downstairs?"
"Who?"
"Dear old Peter. And what do you think he's come for!"
"What?"
"Dot."
"For what?"
"He wants our consent, dear, to pay his addresses to Leonore."
"Oh, Watts!" Mrs. D'Alloi ceased to snuggle, and turned a horrified faceto her husband.
"I've thought she attracted him, but he's such an impassive, cool oldchap, that I wasn't sure."
"That's what I've been so afraid of. I've worried so over it."
"You dear, foolish little woman. What was there to worry over?"
"Watts! You won't give your consent?"
"Of course we will. Why, what more do you want? Money, reputation,brains, health." (That was the order in which Peter's advantages rangedthemselves in Watts's mind). "I don't see what more you can ask, shortof a title, and titles not only never have all those qualities combined,but they are really getting decidedly _nouveau richey_ and notrespectable enough for a Huguenot family, who've lived two hundred andfifty years in New York. What a greedy mamma she is for her littlegirl."
"Oh, Watts! But think!"
"It's hard work, dear, with your eyes to look at. But I will, if you'lltell me what to think about."
"My husband! You cannot have forgotten? Oh, no! It is too horrible foryou to have forgotten that day."
"You heavenly little Puritan! So you are going to refuse Peter as ason-in-law, because he--ah--he's not a Catholic monk. Why, Rosebud, ifyou are going to apply that rule to all Dot's lovers, you had betterpost a sign: 'Wanted, a husband. P.S. No man need apply.'"
"Watts! Don't talk so."
"Dear little woman. I'm only trying to show you that we can't do betterthan trust our little girl to Peter."
"With that stain! Oh, Watts, give him our pure, innocent, spotlesschild!"
"Oh, well. If you want a spotless wedding, let her marry the Church.She'll never find one elsewhere, my darling."
"Watts! How can you talk so? And with yourself as an example. Oh,husband! I want our child--our only child--to marry a man as noble andtrue as her father. Surely there must be others like you?"
"Yes. I think there are a great many men as good as I, Rosebud! But I'mno better than I should be, and it's nothing but your love that makesyou think I am."
"I won't hear you say such things of yourself. You know you are the bestand purest man that ever lived. You know you are."
"If there's any good in me, it's because I married you."
"Watts, you couldn't be bad if you tried." And Mrs. D'Alloi put her armsround Watts's neck and kissed him.
Watts fondled her for a moment in true lover's fashion. Then he said,"Dear little wife, a pure woman can never quite know what this world is.I love Dot next to you, and would not give her to a man whom I believewould not be true to her, or make her happy. I know every circumstanceof Peter's connection with that woman, and he is as blameless as manever was. Such as it was, it was ended years ago, and can never give himmore trouble. He is a strong man, and will be true to Dot. She might geta man who would make her life one long torture. She may be won by a manwho only cares for her money, and will not even give her the husks oflove. But Peter loves her, and has outgrown his mistakes. And don'tforget that but for hi
m we might now have nothing but some horriblymangled remains to remember of our little darling. Dear, I love Dottwenty times more than I love Peter. For her sake, and yours, I amtrying to do my best for her."
So presently Mrs. D'Alloi came into the library, where Peter sat. Sheheld out her hand to him, but Peter said:
"Let me say something first. Mrs. D'Alloi, I would not have had thatoccurrence happen in your home or presence if I had been able to preventit. It grieves me more than I can tell you. I am not a roue. In spite ofappearances I have lived a clean life. I shall never live any other inthe future. I--I love Leonore. Love her very dearly. And if you willgive her to me, should I win her, I pledge you my word that I will giveher the love, and tenderness, and truth which she deserves. Now, willyou give me your hand?"
"He is speaking the truth," thought Mrs. D'Alloi, as Peter spoke. Sheheld 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 Leonorereposing in an exceedingly undignified position before the fire on a bigtiger-skin, and stroking a Persian cat, who, in delight at this enviabletreatment, purred and dug its claws into the rug. Peter stood for a timewatching the pretty tableau, wishing he was a cat.
"Yes, Tawney-eye," said Leonore, in heartrending tones, "it isn't a goodday at all."
"I'm going to quarrel with you on that," said Peter. "It's a gloriousday."
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 andthe 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 dinnerand am to monopolize you till then. Thirdly, she says we may be just asgood friends as we please. Fourthly, she has asked me to come and stayfor a week at Grey-Court this summer. Now, what kind of a day is it?"
"Simply glorious! Isn't it, Tawney-eye?" And the young lady again forgother "papas, proprieties, potatoes, prunes and prisms," and dropping downon the rug, buried her face in the cat's long silky hair. Then shereappeared long enough to say:
"You are such a comforting person! I'm so glad you were born."