She held out her hand and gave his a friendly squeeze.
“You old darling!” he said, and ran out.
She followed him into the hall, and met Manners, who had just parted from the senator at the front door. His uniform was wonderfully becoming.
“Is it Peter?”
They shook hands.
“Never,” she said, “have I seen anything so beautiful!”
Peter blushed (looking even more beautiful, for he hated to be talked about).
“Where was ‘Laddin going?” he said. “He went by me like a shot out of a gun, and had only time to pull my hat over my eyes and squeal Peeeter.”
“He’s very important now,” said Margaret, “and wonders how anybody can want to write things and be a poet or a musician when there are real things to do in the world.”
Peter looked at his watch.