Upon the landing Peter established Olive and himself on the divan among the palms. He studied his companion's face a moment, then said abruptly, "I want to tell you, Miss Townsend, that I 'm more than sorry to be here by an accident."
She looked up at him, startled, but met only a quiet smile. "How did you--I didn't mean you----"
"I know you did n't--and you were very kind not to show how you must have felt. Perhaps it would be in better taste for me not to mention it at all. But I wanted you to know that I appreciated your courtesy in accepting the situation."
"But how----"
"I found out--from a little slip of Miss Shirley's. I wanted to go home, of course, but--I could n't make up my mind to spoil my sister's evening, and besides--I thought your brother's invitation made it right for us to be here."
Olive's dark face was colouring warmly. She looked down at her roses, wondering what to say. Somehow she found herself unwilling to let Peter Bell think she did n't want him at her party, for it was becoming clear to her that she did.
"I'm so sorry," she murmured. "But I'm very glad you did n't go home. If I had known you longer I 'm sure I should have invited----"
"Don't bother to explain," urged Peter's low voice. "'I did n't tell you to make you uncomfortable. Perhaps you won't mind my saying that looking on at this sort of thing is very interesting to me. I 've never seen it before."
"How do you like it?" asked Olive, glancing up at him curiously.
Peter laughed, looking off for a moment toward the drawing-room. "I 'm an outdoor sort of chap, I think," he said. "Yet it's very pretty, all that down there, and I like to look at it. Miss Townsend, do you ride horseback much?"