"To my mind the whole difficulty is Lorraine himself," Gladys declared. "If he were half a man your trouble never would have started. You were about as well fitted for each other as—pardon me—an eagle and a chicken. The only thing surprising is the length of time you hung together. Of course, it's a pity you didn't select some other way out—but I don't know that it's not the natural way, after all. Only——"
"Why did I choose Amherst, you mean?" remarked Stephanie quietly. "I don't exactly know. Propinquity, opportunity—perversity—especially the last."
"But more especially because he is a slick-tongued scoundrel with the odor of eminent respectability and a perfectly fascinating way with women," said Gladys.
They were mounting a steep hill. Near the crest, she threw quickly into second; and when they were over it went back again into high.
"What started us on this subject anyway?" she exclaimed. "I beg your pardon, dear—I never thought what I was saying."
"Nonsense!" smiled Stephanie. "I don't mind in the least—with you. Truth is, I rather like it. Harry Lorraine is nothing to me—and never can be. I'm not sensitive because he happens to be my husband. My poor judgment in making him such is too apparent for me to deny that I was a fool—neither can I deny that I took the worst possible way out of a bad bargain by running away with Amherst. I admit I've been headstrong and willful and everything else idiotic. That possibly is my saving grace—my readiness to admit it—after it is too late. I suppose Society will consider him marvellously magnanimous in offering to take me back, and me a stupendously silly woman in declining. In fact, it won't believe that such a thing is possible. It already assumes that a reconciliation is to be effected. Mrs. Postlewaite was willing to speak to me to-day, and Mrs. Porterfield actually did bow."
"You are coming along!" Gladys laughed. "The Queen P's having indicated—it is for their followers to do likewise."
"What will they do, however, when they know the truth?" Stephanie inquired.
"Stampede—if they haven't committed themselves too far."
"They haven't—it was a tentative recognition only."