"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to explain to her," said Peter, eagerly, "how unsuitable it would be; and to advise her to settle down quietly at the Dower House, as I'm sure my father would have wished her to do. That's all."
"I see," said John, "you want me to put the case to her from your point of view."
"I wish you would," said Peter, earnestly; "every one says you're so eloquent. Surely you could talk her over?"
"I hope I am not eloquent in private life," said John, laughing. "But if you want to know how it appears to me—?"
Peter nodded gravely, pipe in mouth.
"Let us see. To start with," said John, thoughtfully, "you went off, a boy from Eton, to serve your country when you thought, and rightly, that your country had need of you. You distinguished yourself in South Africa—"
"Surely you needn't go into all that?" said Peter, staring.
"Excuse me," said John, smiling. "In putting your case, I can't bear to leave out vital details. Merely professional prejudice. Shortly, then, you fully sustained your share in a long and arduous campaign; you won your commission; you were wounded, decorated, and invalided home."
He stopped short in the brilliant sunshine which now flooded their path, and looked gravely at Peter.