"I do more than say them--I _mean_ them."
"Nicer things even than you used to say," she mused.
"And I mean them even more--if that is possible."
"Because it pleases me to do it--and," leaning a little closer, "because you deserve to be spoiled in the proper way."
"I didn't deserve it--once," she answered.
"You're a different woman from what you were--once, Stephanie."
"People seem to think so!" she said, a trifle bitterly.
"I didn't mean _that_," he answered quietly. "I mean that there has been little enough in your life of late to spoil you, so I shall try to make it up to you. May I?"
For a moment she did not answer--bending her head lower over her plate. Then she turned and faced him--the adorable smile on her lips.
"You may spoil me, Montague,--if you think it wise," she said. "I'm a wilful creature, you know."
"I'll risk the wilfulness," he declared--"it is little enough to risk."
"Pendleton can tell us," came Cameron's voice--"if he will stop talking trash to Mrs. Lorraine long enough to answer."
"And talk trash to you instead, I presume," Pendleton remarked. "Certainly, what is it?"
"How long has Porshinger belonged to the Club?" asked Cameron.
"Longer than he ought," said Pendleton dryly.
"We know that!" the other laughed, in which the table joined. "But was it last year, or the year before--you were on the Board of Governors, weren't you?"
"Not when _he_ came in," Pendleton replied. "Consequently it must have been within the last two years; since my term expired. Sorry I can't help you out."
"Why is it that every Governor fights shy of having voted for Porshinger?" Cameron asked. "If you press them, they all side-step the responsibility. Porshinger isn't such a bad fellow as a whole."
"Taken as a whole!" exclaimed Devereux. "Lord save the mark! the dose is prohibitive--very little of him is more than sufficient for me."
"What is the matter with him--except that he's a bounder and all that?" Cameron asked.--"There are many in the same class, and some of them 'belong.'"
"True enough," Devereux agreed; "but we tolerate the belongers who belong, on account of their families--at least for a time. Those of Porshinger's stamp are just plain bounders; they have nothing to go on except themselves."