"Rather an unusual time for Harry to hold to one opinion!" she laughed. "I should say a change is long overdue." And when Pendleton looked at her with a puzzled air she added: "He told me he would not get a divorce--and that I could not. I'm waiting for him to change his mind again and to file his papers. I am advised that once filed they cannot be withdrawn without my consent, and that I am permitted to press for a decision." "He told you that Sunday in the Park?" he exclaimed. "No--it was somewhat later in the week. He came here, and--offered to--take me back--to forget and forgive. And I declined." "You declined?" he marvelled. "Did you appreciate what you were throwing away, Stephanie?" "Yes--a worthless man, for one thing," she replied. "And what else?" he asked, leaning a bit forward. "A life-time of incompatibility and discord." "And what else?" "The opportunity for Society to overlook my--sin," she answered. He nodded. "Just so--and you choose against Society. Was it wise, Stephanie; was it wise, do you think?" "What do _you_ think it was, Montague?" she asked with an intimate little smile. "I think it was very foolish," he replied promptly; then added--"from the point of expediency." "And very wise from the point of happiness and myself--_n'est ce pas_?" she smiled. "Yes," he said; "unquestionably, yes--but few would have had the courage to refuse." "Let me tell you about it," she broke in. She disliked praise even from her best friends, and she feared Pendleton would not remember. "Mother was dreadfully disappointed, I fear--though she has not mentioned the matter since. It was the expedient way, of course; it would minimize the scandal, and things would go along pretty much as before. That is just the difficulty. I couldn't return to the old way. I could not endure it for a moment--not even long enough to make a show at the reconciliation so that I might purchase Society's forgetfulness. No, not even if I could be assured, before going back to him, of ultimately being divorced." "I understand," he said. "You always understand, Montague," she replied. "You're the most satisfactory of friends." He made a deprecatory gesture. He was as averse as she to praise. "You were about to tell of the Lorraine offer?" he reminded her. And she told him all--not withholding even the final scene. "I am not surprised," he remarked, when she had finished. "It is just what one might expect from Lorraine. He was not too strong-minded to start with, and this affair seems to have put him entirely to the bad. He is keeping his own counsel now, however, which is suspicious. As you say, he is long overdue for a change of mind, and it doesn't seem to be forthcoming. How does he act when he sees you--if you've noticed?" "It is rather queer but I haven't seen him since that afternoon. Possibly because I've been at the Club very rarely--not over a half-dozen times, I should say--you were with me on the most of them."