"Your reasoning is subtle," laughed Peter. "But the worst of

it is, if I were ten times a Catholic, she wouldn't have me.

So what's the use?"

"You never can tell whether a woman will have you or not, until

you offer yourself. And even if she refuses you, is that a

ground for despair? My own husband asked me three times, and

three times I said no. And then he took to writing verses--and

I saw there was but one way to stop him. So we were married.

Ask her; ask her again--and again. You can always resort in

the end to versification. And now," the lady concluded,

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rising, "I have spoken, and I leave you to your fate. I'm

obliged to return to the hotel, to hold a bed of justice. It

appears that my innocent darlings, beyond there, innocent as

they look, have managed among them to break the electric light

in my sitting-room. They're to be arraigned before me at three

for an instruction criminelle. Put what I 've said in your

pipe, and smoke it--'tis a mother's last request. If I 've not

succeeded in determining you, don't pretend, at least, that I

haven't encouraged you a bit. Put what I 've said in your

pipe, and see whether, by vigorous drawing, you can't fan the

smouldering fires of encouragement into a small blaze of

determination."

Peter resumed his stroll backwards and forwards by the

lakeside. Encouragement was all very well; but . . . "Shall I

--shall I not? Shall I--shall I not? Shall I--shall I not?"

The eternal question went tick-tack, tick-tack, to the rhythm of

his march. He glared at vacancy, and tried hard to make up his

mind.

"I'm afraid I must be somewhat lacking in decision of

character," he said, with pathetic wonder.

Then suddenly he stamped his foot.

"Come! An end to this tergiversation. Do it. Do it," cried

his manlier soul.

"I will," he resolved all at once, drawing a deep breath, and

clenching his fists.

He left the Casino, and set forth to walk to Ventirose. He

could not wait for the omnibus, which would not leave till

four. He must strike while his will was hot.

He walked rapidly; in less than an hour he had reached the tall

gilded grille of the park. He stopped for an instant, and

looked up the straight avenue of chestnuts, to the western

front of the castle, softly alight in the afternoon sun. He

put his hand upon the pendent bell-pull of twisted iron, to

summon the porter. In another second he would have rung, he

would have been admitted . . . . And just then one of the

little demons that inhabit the circumambient air, called his

attention to an aspect of the situation which he had not

thought of.




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