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Updated: June 8, 2025
Mrs. D'Alloi ceased to snuggle, and turned a horrified face to her husband. "I've thought she attracted him, but he's such an impassive, cool old chap, 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?
D'Alloi did not know of the "scrape," whatever it was, and with a lawyer's caution, he did not attempt to disabuse her of the impression that he had called about his own affairs. "How you have changed!" Mrs. D'Alloi continued. "If I had not known who it was from the card, I am not sure that I should have recognized you." It was just what Peter had been saying to himself of Mrs. D'Alloi.
And it was not merely that Leonore had been in his arms for a moment, but that he had got a good look up into her eyes. "I wish you would take my horse round to the Riding Club," he told the groom. "I wish to see Miss D'Alloi home." "Thank you very much, but my maid is here in the brougham, so I need not trouble you. Good-bye, and thank you. Oh, thank you so much!"
"The opposite of what he says, I think," said Peter. "That is a very good description of Lispenard. Almost good enough to have been said by himself. If you don't mind, I'll tell him." "No." "Do tell me, Mr. Stirling, how you and Watts D'Alloi came to room together?" "He asked me." "Yes. But what ever made him do that?" "I've often wondered myself."
"Papa," cried Leonore, "don't you see it's killing me? I can't bear it " and Leonore stopped. "Yes, Watts, we must," said Mrs. D'Alloi. Two hours later they were all three rolling towards New York. It was a five hours' ride, but Leonore sat the whole distance without speaking, or showing any consciousness of her surroundings.
"But is it not very humiliating to you to have to be friends with such men?" said Mrs. D'Alloi. "You know Mr. Drewitt?" asked Peter. "Yes," said all but madame. "Do you take pleasure in knowing him?" "Of course," said Watts. "He's very amusing and a regular parlor pet." "That is the reason I took him. For ten years that man was notoriously one of the worst influences in New York State politics.
As the dinner waned, one of the footmen brought him a card, on which Watts had written: "They want me to say a few words of welcome and of Dot. Will you respond?" Peter read the note and then wrote below it: "Dear Miss D'Alloi: You see the above. May I pay you a compliment? Only one? Or will it embarrass you?"
"Why," she said, "this paper calls me 'Leonore D'Alloi, spinster! I'm not going to sign that." "That is merely the legal term," Peter explained. Leonore pouted for some time over it, but finally signed. "I shan't be a spinster, anyway, even if the paper does say so," she said. Peter agreed with her.
"Don't let me interrupt your political disquisitions; I have only come in for a cup of tea." "Miss D'Alloi and I were merely discussing bosses," said Peter. "Miss D'Alloi, when women get the ballot, as I hope they will, I trust you will be a good boss, for I am sure you will influence a great many votes." "Oh!" said Leonore, laughing, "I shan't be a boss at all.
I've tried to get Watts to look you up, but he is so lazy! It's just as well since you've found us out. Only you should have asked for both of us." "I came on business," said Peter. Mrs. D'Alloi laughed. "Watts is the poorest man in the world for that, but he'll do anything he can to help you, I know. He has the warmest feeling for you." Peter gathered from this that Mrs.
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