“Yes,” said Leonore, bobbing her head in a very knowing manner, “Miss De Voe told me.”
“Mr. Stirling,” said Mrs. D’Alloi, “can’t you tell us the meaning of the Latin motto on this seal?” Mrs. D’Alloi held a letter towards him, but did not stir from her position across the room.
Peter understood the device. He was to be drawn off, and made to sit by Mrs. D’Alloi, not because she wanted to see him, but because she did not want him to talk to Leonore. Peter had no intention of being dragooned. So he said: “Madame Mellerie has been telling me what a good Latin scholar Miss D’Alloi is. I certainly shan’t display my ignorance, till she has looked at it.” Then he carried the envelope over to Leonore, and in handing it to her, moved a chair for her, not neglecting one for himself. Mrs. D’Alloi looked discouraged, the more when Peter and Leonore put their heads close together, to examine the envelope.
“‘In bonam partem,’” read Leonore. “That’s easy, mamma. It’s—why, she isn’t listening!”
“You can tell her later. I have something to talk to you about.”
“What is that?”
“Your dinner in my quarters. Whom would you like to have there?”
“Will you really give me a dinner?”
“Yes.”
“And let me have just whom I want?”