"I think we must be going," she said.

"You mustn't go without seeing the rest of my quarters," said Peter, hoping to prolong the visit.

Leonore was complaisant to that extent. So they went into the pantry, and Leonore proceeded, apparently, to show her absolute ignorance of food matters under the pretext that she was displaying great housekeeping knowledge. She told Peter that he ought to keep his champagne on ice. "That champagne will spoil if it isn't kept on ice."

She complained because some bottles of Burgundy had dust on them.

"That's not merely untidy," she said, "but it's bad for the wine. It ought to be stood on end, so that the sediment can settle." She criticised the fact that a brace of canvas-backs were on ice. "All your game should be hung," she said. She put her finger or her eyes into every drawer and cupboard, and found nothing to praise. She was absolutely grave over it, but before long Peter saw the joke and entered into it. It was wonderful how good some of the things that she touched tasted later.

Then they went into Peter's sleeping-room, Leonore said it was very ordinary, but promptly found two things to interest her.

"Do you take care of your window flowers?"

"No, Mrs. Costell comes down to lunch with me once a week, and potters with them. She keeps all the windows full of flowers--perhaps you have noticed them in the other rooms, as well?"

"Yes. I liked them, but I didn't think they could be yours. They grow too well for a man."

"It seems as if Mrs. Costell had only to look at a plant, and it breaks out blossoming," Peter replied.

"What a nice speech," said Leonore.

"It's on a nice subject," Peter told her. "When you have that, it's very easy to make a nice speech."

"I want to meet Mrs. Costell. I've heard all about her."

The second point of interest concerned the contents of what had evidently been planned as an umbrella-stand.

"Why do you have three swords?" she asked, taking the handsomest from its resting place.

"So that I can kill more people."

"Why, Dot, you ought to know that an officer wants a service sword and a dress-sword."

"But these are all dress-swords. I'm afraid you are very proud of your majorship."

Peter only smiled a reply down at her.

"Yes," said Leonore, "I have found out your weakness at last. You like gold lace and fixings."

Still Peter only smiled.

"This sword is presented to Captain Peter Stirling in recognition of his gallant conduct at Hornellsville, July 25, 1877," Leonore read on the scabbard. "What did you do at Hornellsville?"

"Various things."

"But what did you do to get the sword?"

"My duty!"

"Tell me?"

"I thought you knew all about me."

"I don't know this."

Peter only smiled at her.

"Tell me. If you don't, somebody else will. Please."

"Why, Dot, these are all presentation swords."

"Yes," said Peter; "and so gorgeous that I don't dare use them. I keep the swords I wear at the armory."

"Are you going to tell me what you did to get them?"

"That one was given me by my company when I was made captain. That was subscribed for by some friends. The one you have was given me by a railroad."

"For what?"

"For doing my duty."

"Come, papa. We'll go home."

Peter surrendered. "There were some subst.i.tutes for strikers in freight cars that were fitted up with bunks. The strikers fastened the doors on them, and pushed them into a car-shed."

"And what did you do?"

"We rolled the cars back."

"I don't think that was much. Nothing to give a sword for. Now, have you anything more to show us?"

"No. I have a spare room, and Jenifer has a kitchen and sleeping place beyond, but they are not worth showing."

They went out into the little square hall, and so into the study.

Leonore began unfolding her gloves.

"I've had a very nice time," she said. "I think I shall come again very often, I like down-town New York." Leonore was making her first trip to it, so that she spoke from vast knowledge.

"I can't tell you how pleasant it has been to me. It isn't often that such sunshine gets in here," said Peter.

"Then you do prefer sunshine to grimy old law books?" inquired Leonore, smiling demurely.

"Some sunshine," said Peter, meaningly.

"Wherever there has been sunshine there ought to be lots of flowers. I have a good mind--yes, I will--leave you these violets," Leonore took a little bunch that she had worn near her throat and put them and her hand in Peter's. And she hadn't put her glove on yet! Then she put her gloves on, and Peter shook hands. Then he remembered that he ought to see them to the elevator, so he took them out--and shook hands again. After that he concluded it was his duty to see them to the carriage--and he shook hands again.

Peter was not an experienced hand, but he was doing very well.