I know I take Peter as much for granted as I do Tamalpais; if he
ever leaped from the track, and stole or got drunk or wandered off
after some petticoat, I'd FIX him! I'd be furious, but I don't see
myself leaving him."

Peter's brief shout of laughter rang out.

"The awful thing about that female is that it is true," he told
Cherry. "If I ever stray from the path of virtue, she'll scare me
to death."

"Sometimes I think your marriage is as--as queer as my own,"
Cherry said, looking from one to the other.

Nothing more was said for several days upon the subject of a
possible divorce. The weather continued perfect, and the little
house-party on the mountaintop was complete in itself. Cherry
often went into the village with Alix, to be sure; once they all
went to a charity affair at Blithedale; sometimes a few women
drove up the winding road in the afternoon, and there were ginger-
ale and cookies on the porch; but most of the time the two sisters
were alone, with Peter joining them in the afternoons.

One afternoon Peter crossed the porch, tired and hot, and found
everything apparently deserted. He dropped into a chair, and was
still breathless from the rapid climb up-hill, when stray notes
from the piano reached his ears; a chord, a carefully played bit
of bass; then a chord again. Then slowly, but with dainty accuracy
and even feeling, Cherry began to play a strange little study of
Schumann. Peter knew that it was Cherry, because Alix's touch was