“No,” said Leonore. “That wouldn’t have been possible. But you do take so long! I shan’t be able to give you more than one a day. It takes so much time.”
“But then I shall have to be much slower about it.”
“Then I’ll only give you one every other day.”
“Then I shall be so much the longer.”
“Yes,” sighed Leonore. “You are obstinate, after all!”
So they went on till breakfast was announced. Perhaps it was foolish. But they were happy in their foolishness, if such it was. It is not profitable to write what they said. It is idle to write of the week that followed. To all others what they said and did could only be the sayings and doings of two very intolerable people. But to them it was what can never be told in words—and to them we will leave it.
It was Leonore who put an end to this week. Each day that Peter lingered brought letter and telegraphic appeals to him from the party-leaders, over which Peter only laughed, and which he not infrequently failed even to answer. But Mr. Pell told Leonore something one day which made her say to Peter later:
“Is it true that you promised to speak in New York on the fifteenth?”
“Yes. But I wrote Green last night saying I shan’t.”
“And were you to have made a week of speeches through the State?”