"I should say she is a thoroughbred--if it were not for her parents. She has all the characteristics of the well-born--except that she isn't. It must be a sore trial to the girl always to have mother and father to contend against." "Possibly she doesn't consider it," observed Pendleton. "Possibly she accepts the condition and makes the best of it. I've never noticed that she seemed to feel it in the least." "Which makes her all the more thoroughbred," Burgoyne declared. The other nodded. "Just so--and what is more, I've yet to hear her retail scandal or malicious gossip, criticise her friends or acquaintances, or question their motives. Pretty remarkable in a woman, Sheldon." "Exceptional, indeed," Burgoyne agreed. "But it comports with her presence. She is an exceptional looking girl. Her _tout ensemble_ is wonderfully attractive--to me, at least." "You're not the only one to observe it, my friend, as I think I told you. Ask Devereux, if you doubt. He says every blithering idiot in the Club is hot foot after her--himself included. Are you going to get in the running also?" "There appears to be too much competition--the pace is too fast for me. Why haven't you been in it yourself?" "For the same reason--and one other: I'm too old," Pendleton chuckled amiably. "Poor chap!" Burgoyne observed. "Who would ever have thought it to look at you!" "Age is as one feels," said Pendleton. "I feel sixty--therefore I'm not chasing after the petticoats. I leave that for those younger in years and spirit. I am content to stand back and look on--to sniff the battle from afar, like the old war horse." "Who always has another battle in him," rejoined Burgoyne. "However, I would be quite satisfied to have you look on were I a contestant. The Honorable Montague Pendleton is, I fancy, a dangerous rival for any woman's affections." "It would seem so!" laughed Pendleton. "I mean, if you should care to be a rival." "Thanks, that is better--one likes to fancy himself the very devil with the women, even when he knows he isn't." "What is Stephanie Lorraine going to do?" Burgoyne asked presently. "You mean after this afternoon?" said Pendleton. "I do not know. I fancy she doesn't know either. The meeting with Lorraine was most unfortunate, if she sought reconciliation." "Yes; but if she didn't, it doesn't matter in the least--aside from its giving the mob fresh food for talk." "I didn't hear anything said at our table!" smiled Burgoyne. "Hardly!" said Pendleton. "Mrs. Emerson chose to have the sensational guest in preference to the sensation. In deference to Lorraine and ourselves everyone refrained from mentioning what was uppermost in their minds. They have made up for it since, you may be sure." "I think I shall go around to-morrow and call on Stephanie," Burgoyne announced. "Do it, Sheldon--she's going to need all the friends she has--most of the women will side with Lorraine, you know."