“Yes, I think they do,” replied Mr. Pierce. “But five years in the world before meeting would have possibly brought quite a different conclusion. And now, my dear, if we are not going to have the young people eloping in the yacht by themselves, we had better leave both the subject and the room, for we have kept them fifteen minutes as it is.”
CHAPTER VI.
A MONOLOGUE AND A DIALOGUE.
It was at the end of this day’s yachting that Peter was having his “unsocial walk.” Early on the morrow he would be taking the train for his native town, and the thought of this, in connection with other thoughts, drew stern lines on his face. His conclusions were something to this effect:
“I suspected before coming that Watts and Miss Pierce loved each other. I was evidently wrong, for if they did they could not endure seeing so little of each other. How could he know her and not love her? But it’s very fortunate for me, for I should stand no chance against him, even supposing I should try to win the girl he loved. She can’t care for me! As Watts says, ‘I’m an old stupid naturally, and doubly so with girls.’ Still, I can’t go to-morrow without telling her. I shan’t see her again till next winter. I can’t wait till then. Some one else—I can’t wait.”
Then he strode up and down half a dozen times repeating the last three words over and over again. His thoughts took a new turn.
“It’s simply folly, and you have no right to give in to it. You have your own way to make. You have no right to ask mother for more than the fifteen hundred she says you are to have as an allowance, for you know that if she gave you more, it would be only by scrimping herself. What is fifteen hundred a year to such a girl? Why, her father would think I was joking!”
Then Peter looked out on the leaden waters and wished it was not cowardly to end the conflict by letting them close over him. The dark color made him think, however, of a pair of slate-colored eyes, so instead of jumping in, he repeated “I can’t wait” a few times, and walked with redoubled energy. Having stimulated himself thereby, he went on thinking.
“She has been so kind to me that—no—she can’t care for me. But if she—if by chance—if—supposing she does! Why, the money is nothing. We can wait.”
Peter repeated this last remark several times, clearly showing that he made a great distinction between “I can wait” and “We can wait.” Probably the same nice distinction has been made before, and lovers have good authority for the distinction, for many an editor’s public “We think” is the exact opposite of his private “I think.” Then Peter continued: