"Certainly I do—I'm going to visit an old friend—who is a friend still—and always will be, I hope."
Stephanie put out her hand again. "Thank you, Gladys, but I think you ought to know that the Club-house piazza refused to recognize me a few minutes ago."
"I'm not controlled by the Club-house piazza, Stephanie dear," said Miss Chamberlain gently.
"You may be very lonely in your friendship," Stephanie warned. "The only two who spoke to me at the Club were Montague Pendleton and Sheldon Burgoyne—the rest didn't even see me."
"I would bank on Pendleton, and on Burgoyne, too. They are men."
"They came to the front of the house to meet me—assisted me from the carriage—escorted me through the crowd to their table—sat with me—and Montague went back with me and put me in the Victoria. It was a brave thing to do—and I told him so."
"How like Montague Pendleton," said Gladys. "And it was brave too of you to go there and beard the old dowagers and tabbies to their very faces. They can't but respect you for it."
"They are more likely to view it as shameless effrontery," Stephanie answered.
"Let them—they are apt to say anything for a time. Then they will hurt themselves playing follow-my-leader—and trying to distance her."