The Sir Charles Grandison of this novel was, needless to say, not Peter Erwin.  He was none other than Mr. Randolph Leffingwell, under a very thin disguise.

CHAPTER V

IN WHICH PROVIDENCE BEEPS FAITH

Two more years have gone by, limping in the summer and flying in the winter, two more years of conquests.  For our heroine appears to be one of the daughters of Helen, born to make trouble for warriors and others —­and even for innocent bystanders like Peter Erwin.  Peter was debarred from entering those brilliant lists in which apparel played so great a part.  George Hanbury, Guy Rossiter, Algernon Cartwright, Eliphalet Hopper Dwyer—­familiarly known as “Hoppy”—­and other young gentlemen whose names are now but memories, each had his brief day of triumph.  Arrayed like Solomon in wonderful clothes from the mysterious and luxurious East, they returned at Christmas-tide and Easter from college to break lances over Honora.  Let us say it boldly—­she was like that:  she had the world-old knack of sowing discord and despair in the souls of young men.  She was—­as those who had known that fascinating gentleman were not slow to remark—­Randolph Leffingwell over again.

During the festival seasons, Uncle Tom averred, they wore out the latch on the front gate.  If their families possessed horses to spare, they took Honora driving in Forest Park; they escorted her to those anomalous dances peculiar to their innocent age, which are neither children’s parties nor full-fledged balls; their presents, while of no intrinsic value—­as one young gentleman said in a presentation speech—­had an enormous, if shy, significance.

“What a beautiful ring you are wearing, Honora,” Uncle Tom remarked slyly one April morning at breakfast; “let me see it.”

Honora blushed, and hid her hand under the table-cloth.

And the ring-suffice it to say that her little finger was exactly insertable in a ten-cent piece from which everything had been removed but the milling:  removed with infinite loving patience by Mr. Rossiter, and at the expense of much history and philosophy and other less important things, in his college bedroom at New Haven.  Honora wore it for a whole week; a triumph indeed for Mr. Rossiter; when it was placed in a box in Honora’s bedroom, which contained other gifts—­not all from him—­and many letters, in the writing of which learning had likewise suffered.  The immediate cause of the putting away of this ring was said to be the renowned Clinton Howe, who was on the Harvard football eleven, and who visited Mr. George Hanbury that Easter.  Fortunate indeed the tailor who was called upon to practise his art on an Adonis like Mr. Howe, and it was remarked that he scarcely left Honora’s side at the garden party and dance which Mrs. Dwyer gave in honour of the returning heroes, on the Monday of Easter week.