Back to "The Beautiful One" went Peter Byrne, and, true to his
new part of protector and guardian, squared his shoulders and
tried to look much older than he really was, and responsible. The
result was a grimness that alarmed Harmony back to the forgotten
proprieties.
"I think I must go," she said hurriedly, after a glance at his
determinedly altruistic profile. "I must finish packing my
things. The Portier has promised--"
"Go! Why, you haven't even told me your name!"
"Frau Schwarz will present you to-night," primly and rising.
Peter Byrne rose, too.
"I am going back with you. You should not go through that lonely
yard alone after dark."
"Yard! How do you know that?"
Byrne was picking up the cheese, which he had thoughtlessly set
on the heater, and which proved to be in an alarming state of
dissolution. It took a moment to rewrap, and incidentally
furnished an inspiration. He indicated it airily.
"Saw you this morning coming out--delicatessen shop across the
street," he said glibly. And then, in an outburst of honesty
which the girl's eyes seemed somehow to compel: "That's true, but
it's not all the truth. I was on the bus last night, and when you
got off alone I--I saw you were an American, and that's not a
good neighborhood. I took the liberty of following you to your
gate!"
He need not have been alarmed. Harmony was only grateful, and
said so. And in her gratitude she made no objection to his
suggestion that he see her safely to the old lodge and help her
carry her hand-luggage and her violin to the pension.
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