"That it still _binds_ you is the material point--nothing else matters to me." She sighed and leaned back. "What if Lorraine does not believe your denial?" she suggested. "I think he will believe it," Pendleton replied. "He asked me at the Hospital--it was the day I returned from Criss-Cross--to look out for you--to protect you from yourself." "You never told me," she interrupted. "No--I never told you--and I proceeded almost immediately to quarrel with you like a little boy." "Because of his request?" she smiled. "Forgetful of his request," he said contritely. "I've been a poor sort of friend to you, Stephanie. I never was Lorraine's friend and I think he knew it; I fancy that was why he asked me to look out for you--but I've done it atrociously. I'm a miserable----" "You are the best friend I have, Montague!" she exclaimed, leaning forward and putting her hand on his arm,--"the best friend a woman ever had--you believe in me still, after I've done everything to forfeit your trust." "I do--I'm only too glad to believe in you, sweetheart." "You mustn't call me sweetheart, dear--I mean," with a rush of color to her cheeks, "I mean, you must not _now_.--It is unwise--and some one may overhear." "And when we're where no one can _overhear_?" he whispered. The entrancing smile flashed for an instant across her face. "Wait until then," she answered. "We have more serious matters confronting us. What shall we do in event of Porshinger effecting anything against me, directly or by his tales? I'm fearfully afraid, Montague, fearfully afraid!" "Don't be afraid, Stephanie, don't be afraid!" he counselled. "Let us do as I suggested--it is the best plan.--Here comes Gladys; does she know about Porshinger?" "No--I've not told her yet," she said hastily.--"Yes, it was a very gorgeous affair--we're discussing the Croyden Ball, my dear"--as Miss Chamberlain came up, "but then all their affairs are gorgeous and in exquisite taste." "They are, indeed," assented Gladys; "but I thought that last night they surpassed themselves. I never saw anything so charming as the conservatory. You know how huge it is, and there wasn't a light visible, yet the illumination was so subtly subdued that you seemed to see all about you, and yet you didn't--you know what I mean, Montague. I'm a bit vague----" "Precisely!" said Pendleton. "You couldn't trust yourself to believe anything that you thought you saw"--and he shot a glance at Stephanie. "You have it exactly, just the idea I intended to convey!" she laughed. "You are a very satisfactory man--isn't he, Stephanie?" "I'm not committing myself by any rash admissions," Stephanie smiled--and Gladys knew that the quarrel was ended. Just then a motor car, driven at reckless speed, dashed over the hill and up to the Club-house--and Harry Lorraine sprang out. Gladys glanced swiftly at Stephanie and around to Pendleton. "I see him," said Stephanie quietly.