feelings, and was far freer to come and go as he chose.

He did not hear from the honeymoon party. Watts had promised to write to
him and send his address "as soon as we decide whether we pass the
winter in Italy or on the Nile." But no letter came. Peter called on the
Pierces, only to find them out, and as no notice was taken of his
pasteboard, he drew his own inference, and did not repeat the visit.

Such was the first year of Peter's New York life. He studied, he read,
he walked, and most of all, he waited. But no client came, and he seemed
no nearer one than the day he had first seen his own name on his office
door. "How much longer will I have to wait? How long will my patience
hold out?" These were the questions he asked himself, when for a moment
he allowed himself to lose courage. Then he would take to a bit of
wall-gazing, while dreaming of a pair of slate-colored eyes.




CHAPTER XI.

NEW FRIENDS.


Mr. Converse had evidently thought that the only way for Peter to get on
was to make friends. But in this first year Peter did not made a single
one that could be really called such. His second summer broadened his
acquaintance materially, though in a direction which promised him little
law practice.