"Me for the tall timber," he declined.
"Mercy! Montague," Gladys exclaimed. "One would think you were Warwick Devereux."
"I was wondering if anyone would recognize the impersonation!" Pendleton laughed.—"What is it," he asked, as a servant stopped beside him and stood at attention.
"Mr. Cameron is waiting in the grill-room, sir," the man replied.
Pendleton nodded in dismissal.
"How about having the dinner to-morrow evening?" he asked.—"Good! That's very nice indeed—will seven-thirty be convenient? All right—seven-thirty it is."
The grill was comfortably filled; the talk was of but one subject:—Amherst's return, what it signified and what would follow.
"It's too late to kill him," said Devonshire, as Pendleton entered the room, "but if I were Lorraine, I should get me a good hefty raw-hide and beat him within an inch of his life, paying particular attention to his handsome face. When I was through with him there wouldn't be much beauty left, I can tell you."
"But can Lorraine do it—has he the strength?" asked Smithers.
"In such a case the rightness of his cause would give him strength," Devonshire returned—"and any decent chap who was handy would lend him assistance if it was needed."