"Have it as you will," said she indifferently; "though, if you are correct in your assumption, don't you think the man is very laggard at the tryst?"
"Or you are early!" he cut in. "Ah! perhaps he comes!" as the canter of a horse was heard around the bend.
A moment later, Montague Pendleton came in sight.
Instantly the occurrence of yesterday at the Club—Pendleton's pre-nuptial admiration, together with the rumors current at that time, flashed to his mind. He leaned forward and bent his eyes on Stephanie's face—to meet her amusing glance.
"Perhaps he does come!" he said. "Perhaps I am de trop."
"Then why don't you go?" she asked indifferently.
It was like a blow in the face—and it angered as a blow—sharply, hotly.
He took a step toward her—recovered himself—stopped—glared at her an instant—then faced Pendleton, who was just at hand, and motioned for him to stop.
Instantly Pendleton drew rein and dismounted. His surprise he concealed under the well-bred air of courteous greeting.
"What does it mean?" he thought. "Have they become reconciled—is it a chance meeting—has Stephanie reconsidered—has Lorraine made his peace for the affront of yesterday?"