Presently she said:
"Was Montague actually averse to Porshinger's being asked to Criss-Cross?"
"In a mild sort of way, yes—but nothing vehement, I assure you."
"It isn't Montague's way to be vehement," Gladys observed. "At any rate, I think we'll try the experiment. I'll ask him over to-morrow in time for tea, explaining that we need another man—and so boost him up the wall a bit. We can size up the situation—his amenability to kind treatment principally—and if it's not promising we need go no further with him. But I'm inclined to the notion that being nice to him will be exceedingly effective. He impressed you as well-mannered and fairly agreeable, didn't he?"
Stephanie nodded. "So far as I could judge superficially he is no different from the men we've known always. I found him very pleasant and courteous. Whether it was natural with him or only company manners I didn't try to find out."
"Naturally not.—Well, we'll turn the wild animal loose among the tame ones and see what happens. We can at least enjoy the fun.—You don't object, my dear?"
"Not in the least!" Stephanie laughed.
* * * * * * *
The following morning Woodside came out on his piazza, a queer look on his face.
"You're wanted on the telephone," said he to Porshinger, who was sitting looking out over the valley.