"I scarcely know whether that is complimentary or not," he said. "What do you think it is?" "I don't think--I don't know what to think. At the best, I take it to be--negative." "Which is safe--and exceedingly sane. You will never err by being too optimistic, Mr. Porshinger." "So one learns in business!" he laughed. She suppressed a smile. It was always business with him. Apparently he could not get away from it even at a dinner party or for an evening. The men called him a bounder--and not without reason. But she was going to be nice to him, if he would let her, and see what would come of it, whether she could manage him without his being the wiser. She had learned a lot about him from himself, yesterday morning and again this evening; and while it was not of the pleasantest, yet she would play her part without any excessive repugnance. Some women could have liked him for his money--a great many women, indeed--and tried to get him into the family either directly or indirectly, but none of it for hers.... Of course, there was the chance that she was playing with fire, that Porshinger, being familiar with the past, would try to presume on it, and--she must be prepared for that contingency, if she were unable to control the situation. He was a masterful sort of man, but masterful men are easy to manage if taken the right way and handled with tact and finesse. Which is true enough with the men of Mrs. Lorraine's own class--but she did not know the Porshinger kind. She lost his words for a moment. When she caught them again he was ending: "So you see, as I said, it is the way of the business man." "Yes--of course," she answered vaguely--"it's a good way, as the world goes I dare say." "None better--none so good!" he declared. "That is why we are at the top of the heap to-day. We are a hundred years ahead of our fathers, so to speak." "And our sons will be a hundred years ahead of us?" she asked. "Likely enough, if they don't go asleep on our achievements." They were passing again the angle of the piazza. "Didn't I see you here last night with Pendleton?" he asked abruptly. "I really don't know," she replied. "Perhaps, I was--I don't remember." "I'm sure of it," said he--"the light flared out suddenly from this window and showered you with its brightness." He looked at her with a reminiscent smile--and she understood. He had seen Pendleton kiss her--and he meant to kiss her himself. Well, at least, she knew now how to handle him. "It was not I," she replied carelessly, as she turned into the house, "I was not on this end of the piazza last evening." He smiled again, tolerantly. "Perhaps I _was_ mistaken," he answered. XIV NOBLESSE OBLIGE Porshinger played Auction until he had just time to change his clothes and catch the train back to town. The game at his table had been rather stupid--a very colorless lot of hands, no large penalties--and had ended with the score about even.