t.

When Peter came to her the next afternoon, he found her haggard, but
very quiet, very calm. Beneath her calmness, however, he divined the
stir of troubled depths, and he carefully kept to the surface; ignored
his long banishment; took up one impersonal topic after another for her
entertainment; and was altogether so much the safe, unromantic,
delightful old friend of the family that, but for the hammering of her
pulses, he would have persuaded Sheila that the distress of the past
night was a mere, ugly dream. But because she could not look at him
without a catch of her breath; because she could not speak to him
without first pausing to steady her voice; because all her tranquility
was but desperate and painful effort, she knew the night was no dream,
but even more of a reality than she had thought.

"Peter," she said at last, with attempted lightness, "Peter, I'm going
to meddle with your destiny."

"What do you mean?" he asked, smiling at her.

That smile of his almost cost her her self-control, so dear it was to
her. But she went on bravely enough: "I'm going to secure you a wife."

He threw up his hands in dismay. "Don't try," he pleaded. "You could
never find a wife to suit me!"

"But I _have_ found one who's sure to suit you."

"You've actually selected her?--you have her waiting for me?"

She nodded, trying to smile back at him now with a deceiving gayety.

"May I know who the fair lady is?"

"Of course. She's--Charlotte! She is just the woman for you, Peter."

"Never," he said promptly. "She is charming and clever and handsome
and kind, _but_--she's not the woman for me."

"Peter"--and Sheila dropped her pretense of playfulness--"Peter, she's
all that you need. She'd make a great man of you."

"At this late date?" he inquired a little ruefully. "She'd make a
great man of me at forty-six?"

"Yes, she would. Charlotte's very--strong. She could accomplish
anything she wished. She'd do much for a man--with a man--if she loved
him."

"I have no reason to believe that she loves me," said Peter.

"Perhaps I shouldn't tell you, but _I_ have reason to believe that--she
loves you."

He leaned forward and searchingly studied her face: "I'm sure you are
mistaken. But--granting that Charlotte may love me--is it for her sake
that you want me to marry her?"

"For hers--and for yours. I want to see you in a home of your own,
Peter--with a wife to love you, with children. I want--I want y