"I decline to advise you—you're quite of sufficient age to advise yourself," Pendleton responded.
"To return to Mrs. Lorraine," said Burgoyne. "The women didn't manifest much charity this afternoon, I must admit. They were as cold as the proverbial ice water."
"Yes—'seeing they see not'—as some one has it."
"And until they or some of them will consent to see, I fear that Stephanie will be very lonely."
Pendleton nodded. "It might have been better if she had remained abroad for a year or two—till the thing died down. Now it will depend on Stephanie herself whether she can force Society's hand."
"Is that her idea, do you think—to force Society's hand?"
"I don't know that she has formed any idea. She has been home only a day or two, you must remember."
"Judging from this afternoon—I should say she hasn't," remarked Burgoyne. "To come to the Club was about the wildest thing she could have done—and then, as a climax, to meet Lorraine right in the centre of the spot light! He seems to have known his mind when it came to the pinch. I understand he gave her his back."
"He did. So far as they two are concerned the decision is made finally," Pendleton replied. "The last hope of a reconciliation is past."
An hour later, when the piazza was almost deserted, two men came from the house and sat down some little distance away from the quiet corner where Pendleton and Burgoyne still lingered.