None of the quartette in the dining-room was the least bit hungry, and it was but a very few moments till the young hostess led the way back to the parlour, Elise and Rutledge following slowly. When they reached the stairway Elise seated herself on the third step and by the gesture with which she arranged her skirts invited Evans to a seat below her. "Look at that," said Lola to Hazard, glancing over her shoulder as they passed into the parlour. "Now she’s going to be good to him." "In the name of heavens, woman, you didn’t tell her!" "Why not? She’s the very one that ought to know. She will not inform the reporters." "But what will she think of me?" asked Hazard in some concern. "You? Why, you don’t count! You are only a pawn in their game." As his eyes flashed she added, with a bewildering tilt of her chin: "I promise to make good all your losses." "May my losses prosper!" prayed Hazard audibly. * * * * * Elise used a makeshift conversation with Rutledge till she heard the humming accents of the others well going, and then— "Mr. Rutledge," she said. "I wish to speak to you of your defence of my name when that Mr. Smith—" The suddenness of it routed all Rutledge’s cool senses. "Oh, Miss Phillips," he broke in, "I am so sorry that I should have done anything to accentuate that abominable fellow’s remark. I am so heartily ashamed of my unpardonable boyish thoughtlessness and lack of consideration that I cannot find words to express my contempt for myself," etc., to the same effect, without giving Elise a chance to speak, till she was surprised in turn, then amused, then annoyed. Finally, in order to bring him to a reasonable coherency, she interrupted his self-denunciations. "What did Mr. Smith say of me, Mr. Rutledge?" "I can’t repeat that to you, Miss Phillips." "You must if the words are decent. Tell me at once. I must know." "He simply coupled your name with that of—Doctor Woods—the negro who—lunched at your home in Cleveland." Evans forced out the last half-dozen words with a visible effort—which the girl may have misinterpreted. "Oh!" She dropped her face in her hands. She had not dreamed of that explanation. But she gathered herself in a moment. Every pennyweight of her admirable pride came to her support. At the mention of "negro luncheon" she was on guard against Rutledge, her kindly purpose forgotten. She sat straight up and with a perfect dignity said: "I thank you, Mr. Rutledge, for your well-meant efforts in my behalf, but my father is abundantly able both to choose the guests who shall dine at his table, and to protect my name, whenever indeed it shall need a champion." She closed the discussion by rising. Evans did not tarry long. He was too badly scattered. The other guests soon followed, except Elise, who remained overnight at Lola’s insistence.