him, and very likely made
some sort of contract to which he can hold her if he chooses. Besides,
she admires him as much as ever, though she admires Larry more, and in
her silly, blundering way, she plays a double game. All sweetness and
light to Storm when she's with him, and immense pride in him as an
employe--the pride a small, dull comet might feel in attracting
attention to itself by trailing a disproportionately brilliant tail
across the sky. All specious promises and excuses to Caspian when she's
with him and _not_ with Peter. Caspian, you remember, _used_ to be a
protege of hers when he was a rising young socialist, and she was the
widow of a quaint genius who'd made a fortune in some weird patent to
keep your hair from decaying, or your teeth from falling out. Now, he's
a rising young millionaire, accepted by People Who Matter; and he can do
more for her than she for him, socially. So she has to be nice to him,
no matter how she feels, and "keep him sweet," anyhow until she's
_quite_ sure of Larry and his ancestors to back her up. That's the way I
account for Peter's being kept on, though of course there's the fact
that Caspian enjoys bullying him now that he's down.

Anyhow, that's the situation on the surface. When we motor, the Stormy
Petrel submits himself for the present to the boot of the tyrant in the
Grayles-Grice. When we leave the motor, Peter is left, too, and chained
to his duties. But, so long as he gets through his tasks at the
appointed time, no questions can be asked as to how he spends the extra
hours. And the speed with which he does get through those tasks is
miraculous as that of Psyche sorting the grains of wheat at the order of
mother-in-law Venus! Psyche had all the kingdom of ants to help her.
But _who_ helps Peter? One can't suppose that he's rich enough to fling
all his salary to an understudy while he gads. Yet I've seen him going
to his room with a _sheaf_ of papers which would keep the nose of a
common secretary at the grindstone for six or seven hours, whereas P. S.
is free to do as he pleases in less than half that time.

This long preamble explains why Peter Storm didn't start out with us
this morning, though we picked him up at Fall River and brought him on
to Boston, as I told you, and why he was nevertheless able to appear
casually in Cambridge. We came across him in the college yard, just as
we were "processing" through the big gateway, guided by the Boys, proud,
happy Boys