He glanced covertly at Pendleton--Pendleton was smoking and looking dreamily up at the sky.
"My idea of a foursome didn't seem to take well with the ladies," he adventured.
"No, didn't seem to," Pendleton answered dryly.
"Do you think Mrs. Lorraine and Miss Chamberlain are coming back?"
Pendleton's patience was fast slipping its moorings.
"Judging from Mrs. Lorraine's manner, I should say _she_ was not----so long as you are here," he replied.
"I thought so myself!" he chuckled. "Have a drink, Pendleton?"
"No, thank you!" Pendleton declined sharply.
Pendleton blew smoke rings and made no reply.
"From which I might infer--a number of things," Porshinger laughed. "But I won't. I had one quarrel with a pretty woman over nothing last evening; I'm not going to have another quarrel with a good fellow this afternoon."
It was evident to Pendleton that Porshinger never suspected that Stephanie had told more than the simple fact of their quarrel, or else he was trying to draw him out so as to know what story he had to meet and overcome.
Just then Dolittle's voice came around the corner.
"Have you heard the latest scandal?" it enquired.
"No--what is it?" said another voice, which Pendleton recognized as Emerson's.
There was a moving of chairs and the two men sat down.
Pendleton took a long draw on his cigarette. He saw what was coming. Porshinger, however, did not see, and like the majority of his class, he craned his ears to overhear.
"It's pretty hot stuff!" laughed Dolittle. "Were you at the Croydens' last night?"
Pendleton glanced at Porshinger. The latter's face was suddenly creased by a frown.
"No--but Marcia was," Emerson answered, with the parvenu parent's pride in the daughter who has been included.
"I've not seen her.--She takes her breakfast in bed, you know."
"No--I didn't know," said Dolittle airily--then hastened to add:--"but most women do so, I understand."
"I don't know about most women," Emerson returned bluntly.
"Of course, you don't," Dolittle interjected pleasantly. "An old married man isn't supposed to know about such things. Hey!" and he laughed. "But to return--have you ever been in Croyden's country-house? It's down the valley."
"Then you know how spacious it is, particularly the conservatory, and how the lights are arranged so that you seem to see all about you but you don't--the palms and the other big plants are concealers."