"Not at all," Pendleton answered. "I'm in the hands of my hostess." "Which is exceedingly polite but means nothing," Cameron explained. "It was meant to mean nothing," Devereux interrupted. "Was it, Montague?" Gladys asked. "It was meant to mean whatever you wish," said Pendleton. "Whatever is agreeable to you is my desire. If you wish Porshinger what have we to say or to do--except to be agreeable?" "Oh, certainly--Miss Chamberlain knows that we'll be agreeable!" Devereux exclaimed--"also that we do object to Porshinger. What is the use of spoiling a particularly congenial crowd by having a bounder run in on us?--However--orders are orders. We'll turn out the guard to receive him and do him full reverence for your dear sake, Gladys." He tossed his cigarette away and arose, "Miss Emerson, I have the honor to ask you to go for a stroll--wilt come, sweetheart, wilt come?" "Coming, dearest, coming!" laughed Marcia. "Tarry only until I get a sunshade." "At the foot of the steps, I will await you. Haste, little one, haste, I pray." "You will be back for luncheon, I presume?" Gladys called after them, as they went down the walk. "Not if I can persuade the beauteous lady to elope with me," replied Devereux. "Otherwise, we shall be back--and hungry." "What is the reason for this unusual tack of Gladys?" Burgoyne asked Pendleton in an undertone. "You mean as to Porshinger?" "Of course." "Friendship and interest, I presume," Pendleton answered. "Bosh!" said Burgoyne. "What is it--do you know?" "I told you: friendship and interest--in Mrs. Lorraine?--and incidentally in your humble servant." "Good enough! but just where does it come in, please--what does it consist in?" "In drawing his fangs--Porshinger's fangs." Burgoyne looked puzzled. "You remember our little fracas with Porshinger and Murchison up at the Club some time ago?" said Pendleton. "Sure--that is what makes his coming here embarrassing--though they both have utterly ignored it since." "Only outwardly. Porshinger has threatened vengeance on Stephanie and me, it seems. The women heard of it--Gladys and Stephanie, that is--and have a scheme to propitiate him, the first course of which is this invitation to Criss-Cross. Subsequent courses will depend on how this one goes down with all concerned. It's nonsense, certainly, but as he _can_ injure Stephanie, if he sets himself to do it, I don't feel justified in opposing it." "The infernal scoundrel!" Burgoyne exclaimed. "Do you actually think he contemplates taking his revenge on a woman?" "To be quite candid, I don't know. However, judging from his business methods, he is mean enough for anything." "Can he reach _you_?" "If he should try, yes--he has sufficient power, with his enormous wealth and its ramifications, to reach almost any one in some way or by some means." "He is a good hater, I've always understood," said Burgoyne. "I'm not alarmed," Pendleton answered. "Doesn't he include me in his revenge?"