hink 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:

"Of course I shall have difficulty with Mr. Pierce. He's a worldly man.
That's nothing, though, if she cares for me. If she cares for me?"

Peter repeated this last sentence a number of times and seemed to enjoy
the prospect it conjured up. He saw Peter Stirling taking a fond
farewell of a certain lady. He saw him entering the arena and struggling
with the wild beasts, and of course conquering them. He saw the day when
his successes would enable him to set up his own fireside. He saw that
fireside made perfect by a pair of slate-colored eyes, which breakfast
opposite him, follow him as he starts for his work, and greet him on his
return. A pair of eyes to love when present, and think of when absent.
Heigho! How many firesides and homes have been built out of just such
materials!

From all this the fact can be gathered that Peter was really, despite
his calm, sober nature, no more sensible in love matters than are other
boys verging on twenty-one. He could not see that success in this love
would be his greatest misfortune. That he could not but be distracted
from his work. That he would almost certainly marry before he could well
afford it, and thus overweight himself in his battle for success. He
forgot prudence and common-sense, and that being what a lover usually
does, he can hardly be blamed for it.

Bump!

Down came the air-castle. Home, fireside, and the slate-colored eyes
dissolved into a wooden wharf. The dream was over.

"Bear a hand here with these lunch-baskets, chum," called Watts. "Make
yourself useful as well as ornamental."