“Yes.”
“Would he have come if you had been travelling out west?”
“Oh, Peter,” cried Dorothy, below her breath, “I’m so glad it’s come at last!”
We hope our readers can grasp the continuity of Dorothy’s mental processes, for her verbal ones were rather inconsequent.
“She’s lovely,” continued the verbal process. “And I’m sure I can help you.”
“I need it,” groaned Peter. “She doesn’t care in the least for me, and I can’t get her to. And she says she isn’t going to marry for—”
“Nonsense!” interrupted Dorothy, contemptuously, and sailed into the ladies’ dressing-room.
Peter gazed after her. “I wonder what’s nonsense?” he thought.
Dorothy set about her self-imposed task with all the ardor for matchmaking, possessed by a perfectly happy married woman. But Dorothy evidently intended that Leonore should not marry Peter, if one can judge from the tenor of her remarks to Leonore in the dressing-room. Peter liked Dorothy, and would probably not have believed her capable of treachery, but it is left to masculine mind to draw any other inference from the dialogue which took place between the two, as they prinked before a cheval glass.
“I’m so glad to have Peter here for this particular evening,” said Dorothy.