"Not at all, my dear, not at all! We shall take particular care to tell it. It is fortunate we happened to see everything, and so can vouch for your story in the face of Dolittle's scandalous tale and Porshinger's lie--he will lie, of course. Now, if you don't mind, we will let by-gones be by-gones--and start fresh." She laid her hand intimately on Stephanie's arm. "And we'll have tea together here to bind it--just we three. Will you, my dear?" "Of course, I will, Mrs. Postlewaite!" Stephanie responded, with a happy little laugh. The Porshinger episode was over--the victory was theirs. Just then, from somewhere downstairs, came a voice calling so loudly the whole piazza heard:-- "I say, fellows, do you know that Amherst is in town--got back this morning? I shouldn't be surprised if the damn scoundrel would actually have nerve enough to come up here and ask us all to take a drink!" Pendleton deliberately leaned forward and took Stephanie's hand in his--and held it, with a reassuring pressure. "As you were saying, Mrs. Postlewaite," he remarked, "I hear that the Croyden ball was a charming affair, though I was so unfortunate as to miss it." XXI OBSESSED When tea was over Mrs. Postlewaite arose. "Come around soon and see me, Stephanie!" she smiled, and with an intimately gracious nod, she resumed her progress down the piazza. "Where is Gladys?" Pendleton asked. "On the other side, playing Auction, I think; don't disturb her, Montague--and if you will call my car, I'll go home. I've had about enough excitement for one afternoon." She breathed a sigh of intense relief. "The last is very gratifying, isn't it, my friend?" "Mrs. Postlewaite and Mrs. Porterfield, of all others!" exclaimed Pendleton. "The best witnesses you could possibly have. It's too lucky for words! Your rehabilitation is effected and Porshinger is undone. He will be cut by everyone and expelled from the Clubs. It is a social Waterloo for him." "But it doesn't relieve _you_ of his revenge," she objected. "It will make him all the more determined to square off." "Don't let that bother you, dear--I mean, Stephanie!" he laughed. "You're free of him--he won't try his dirty tricks on you--and I'm a man, and it doesn't matter. I can meet him half way and then some. In fact, I'm hoping he will be kind enough to give me the opportunity." "I'm afraid for you, Montague--indeed I'm afraid!" she repeated. "Nonsense, little woman. Don't you worry about me--I tell you there is no need. _You're_ out of it now.--I admit I _was_ mightily concerned for you; that is why I didn't favor Gladys' and your scheme to placate him: because it involved you. He could have made it most unpleasant--as he did--and as he didn't, thanks to Mrs. Postlewaite." He put her in her car, with the courteous deference he always had for a woman--were she but a beggar who accosted him on the street--and which was always just a shade more courteous and more deferential to _her_.