She was right in believing that her unfortunate cavalier would make no
revelation of her conduct, and his catastrophe passed as an accident.
But Peter could not disguise the fact that much of his unpopularity
was shared by his sister. The matrons of Atherly believed that she was
"fast," and remembered more distinctly than ever the evil habits of her
mother. That she would, in the due course of time, "take to drink," they
never doubted. Her dancing was considered outrageous in its unfettered
freedom, and her extraordinary powers of endurance were looked upon as
"masculine" by the weaker girls whose partners she took from them. She
reciprocally looked down upon them, and made no secret of her contempt
for their small refinements and fancies. She affected only the society
of men, and even treated them with a familiarity that was both fearless
and scornful. Peter saw that it was useless to face the opposition;
Miss Atherly did not seem to encourage the renewal of the young lawyer's
attentions, although it was evident that he was still attracted by her,
nor did she seem to invite advances from others. He must go away--and
he would have to take her with him. It seemed ridiculous that a woman of
thirty, of masculine character, should require a chaperon in a brother
of equal age; but Peter knew the singular blending of childlike
ignorance with this Amazonian quality. He had made his arrangements
for an absence from Atherly of three or four years, and they departed
together. The young fair-haired lawyer came to the stage-coach office to
see them off. Peter could detect no sentiment in his sister's familiar
farewell of her unfortunate suitor. At New York, however, it was
arranged that "Jinny" should stay with some friends whom they had made
en route, and that, if she wished, she could come to Europe later, and
join him in London.

Thus relieved of one, Peter Atherly of Atherly started on his cherished