She smiled a little and that, with her glowing color, made her splendid.
"You have been here every day," she said, conceding him the grace of having done his utmost.
"Yes, but it hasn't been right. There's been something between us—something unexplained."
She knew, so she reflected, what that was. Rose had been between them. But she listened with an attentive gravity.
"We must go back to Paris," Peter was urging. "I shall work there. We will live simply and turn in everything to the Brotherhood. We must be married—dear." He looked direct and manly, not boyish, now, and she felt a sudden pride in him. "Electra, you'll go with me?"
She withdrew from him and sat down, indicating the other chair.
"Something very queer has happened," she said. "I must tell you about it." It had just come to her again as it had been doing at moments through the absorbing hour at luncheon, that she was in a difficult place with grandmother, and that here was the one creature whom she had the right to count upon. Rapidly she told him the facts of the case, ending with her conclusion,—
"The house belongs to grandmother."
Peter was frowning comically. In his effort to think, he looked as if the sun were in his eyes.
"I don't believe I understand," he said, and again she told him.