"I'm delighted you've come in. I have waited for you," Peter hastened to declare to Biddy, though he was conscious that this was under the circumstances meagre.
"Aren't you coming to see us again?"
"I'm in despair, but I shall really not have time. Therefore it's a blessing not to have missed you here."
"I'm very glad," said Biddy. Then she added: "And you're going to America—to stay a long time?"
"Till I'm sent to some better place."
"And will that better place be as far away?"
"Oh Biddy, it wouldn't be better then," said Peter.
"Do you mean they'll give you something to do at home?"
"Hardly that. But I've got a tremendous lot to do at home to-day." For the twentieth time Peter referred to his watch.
Biddy turned to her brother, who murmured to her: "You might bid me good morning." She kissed him, and he asked what the news might be in Calcutta Gardens; to which, she replied:
"The only news is, of course, that, poor dears! they're making great preparations for Peter. Mamma thinks you must have had such a nasty dinner the other day," the girl continued, to the guest of that romantic occasion.
"Faithless Peter!" said Nick, beginning to whistle and to arrange a canvas in anticipation of Miriam's arrival.
"Dear Biddy, thank your stars you are not in my horrid profession," protested the personage thus designated. "One is bowled about like a cricket-ball, unable to answer for one's freedom or one's comfort from one moment to another."
