"Just imagine I'm Miss Emerson!" she smiled. "If you'll imagine I'm Montague Pendleton." She did not answer--and he surmised the situation. "You two have quarrelled," he said. The faintest shrug of the lovely shoulders answered him. "Now _don't_ do anything rash--before you make it up," he cautioned. "I'm a little surprised at Pendleton letting you quarrel with him. I thought he was too superior a being for that; but you never can tell when----" He smiled at her significantly. "There may be method in his plan, but I--no, assuredly, you never can tell!" "No, you never can tell anything for sure," she replied enigmatically. The music stopped. They were just beside Miss Chamberlain and Cameron, and the four strolled out of the crush to the punch bowl on the nearest piazza. "May I have the next dance, Mrs. Lorraine?" said Porshinger's voice behind them. Cameron, who was close, touched her arm. "It is promised to Mr. Cameron!" Stephanie smiled. "How about the next?" Porshinger asked. She felt Burgoyne's fingers close lightly around her own. "It is taken also--Mr. Burgoyne gets it!" she smiled again. "Which one may I have before the cotillon?" Porshinger persisted pleasantly, refusing to be rebuffed. "You may have the--fifth," she replied. "You mean the fifth from now or from the beginning?" "The fifth from the beginning," she answered, as Cameron bore her back to the ballroom. "I didn't know if you wanted to dance," began Cameron, "but I----" "It was very good of you, Steuart, very good indeed," she replied. "I would much rather dance with my friends than with----" "Your enemies," he appended. "I don't say so." "No, _I_ say so. Meanwhile, let us forget Porshinger and enjoy the music. You sure are a dancer, Stephanie!" "So Sheldon says!" she smiled. "I'm delighted that I haven't lost that too"--then gave herself up to the slow languorous waltz, so intoxicating in its swing that it fairly lifted them up and bore them along without an effort. "Thank you!" said Cameron, when it ended. "It was entrancing--simply entrancing! Don't dance so with Porshinger, I pray you; he may not be able to withstand temptation." "I knew I could trust you, Steuart!" she laughed. "I'll be more prudent with the other." And she was--dancing it in the formal way, with tight held body, yielding just sufficiently for the dance but not a shade more. And Porshinger noted the difference; and he said, as the music ended: "I'm afraid I'm rather an awkward dancer, Mrs. Lorraine. I don't seem to get on as I should." "I did not notice it," she replied. "At least, I didn't get on as Cameron or Burgoyne did." "You must remember that I have danced with them for years--we know each other's steps." "Yes, that may be it--for I can modestly say that I am not a poor dancer. It struck me that we were not in accord temperamentally--we didn't catch the spirit, so to speak. We were treading the minuet rather than dancing a two-step."