"Do you think so?" Stephanie laughed.
"I think so—most decidedly. What does Pendleton mean by permitting it?"
"What has Mr. Pendleton to say about it?" she inquired sweetly.
"What have I to say about it, either?" he replied. "Just this, Stephanie: We're your friends—we've been your friends from the cradle, so to speak, and I, for one, am not going to let that miserable bounder compromise you without making a strenuous protest. It's beginning to be talked about in the Clubs and drawing-rooms. His attentions to you are causing comment. You don't know it, of course, but it has become decidedly marked in the last couple of weeks. At least half the people in this room saw you enter, saw Porshinger start across—and they stopped talking and watched you. Maybe you didn't notice it, but Gladys and I did, and——"
"I noticed it," Stephanie answered, "and it is absurd—this talk. Mr. Porshinger has never been anything but most courteous."
"Of course he hasn't. All your friends know that, but——"
"I have a bad reputation back of me," she interrupted. "Well, I can't see how I shall ever manage to keep out of its shadow. However, I promise to be more circumspect. To be quite frank with you, Sheldon, I positively dislike Porshinger. I'm doing this with a purpose."
"I know," he said; "but you can't afford it—it's too compromising. You can't control Porshinger. He is a cad—and you don't understand cads. They are not governed by the same instincts as the men of your class. Your scheme would work with them but will not work with Porshinger. He will misinterpret and presume."
"I think I can control him," she answered. "He has manifested no disposition to presume."