"I asked you to come in here, because I'm sure, after venturing out such
a night, you would like an extra cup of coffee," Miss De Voe explained.
"You need not sit at the table. Morden, put a chair by the fire."

So Peter found himself sitting in front of a big wood-fire, drinking a
cup of coffee decidedly better in quality than his home-brew. Blank
walls ceased to have any particular value for the time.

In a moment Miss De Voe joined him at the fire. A small table was moved
up, and a plate of fruit, and a cup of coffee placed upon it.

"That is all, Morden," she said. "It is so nice of you to have come this
evening. I was promising myself a very solitary time, and was dawdling
over my dinner to kill some of it. Isn't it a dreadful night?"

"It's blowing hard. Two or three times I thought I should have to give
it up."

"You didn't walk?"

"Yes. I could have taken a solitary-car that passed, but the horses were
so done up that I thought I was better able to walk."

Miss De Voe touched the bell. "Another cup of coffee, Morden, and bring
the cognac," she said. "I am not going to let you please your mother
to-night," she told Peter. "I am going to make you do what I wish." So
she poured a liberal portion of the eau-de-vie into Peter's second cup,
and he most dutifully drank it. "How funny that he should be so
obstinate sometimes, and so obedient at others," thought Miss De Voe. "I
don't generally let men smoke, but I'm going to make an exception