Porshinger stirred uneasily and whipped a glance at Pendleton--who had gone back to surveying the clouds and pushing smoke rings toward them.
"Yes," said Emerson; "I remember the conservatory perfectly. It's a beautiful room, a beautiful room!"
"Well be that as it may," Dolittle went on: "it was just before the Cotillon, and I was in the conservatory with--never mind her name--when Stephanie Lorraine came in with the fellow Porshinger----"
Porshinger half arose; then sank back and his eyes sought Pendleton--who was still occupied with the clouds and the smoke and his reverie.
"It's amazing how such an infernal bounder can get intimate with a woman like Mrs. Lorraine, even if he has more money than brains--and even if she has a bit unsavory past," Dolittle continued. "There are plenty in her own circle who have sufficient money to occupy her attention. However, as I was saying, she and Porshinger entered and took a sheltered little nook, which apparently was concealed by the verdure----"
"I was just a little way off, and could see through the leaves. Presently I happened to glance over and saw--what do you think I saw?"
"Give it up," said matter-of-fact Emerson.
"I saw--Mrs. Lorraine in Porshinger's arms!"
"Yes--and he was kissing her well, I can tell you."
"Hum!" reflected Emerson. "Did your--companion see it, too?"
And Pendleton knew from his tones that Dolittle lied.
"Hum!" muttered Emerson again. "Is she discreet?"
"Do you mean, will she tell? Certainly she'll tell. Do you fancy a woman would let such an opportunity slip?"
"Or some men either!" Emerson remarked quietly.
"What do you intend to imply by that?" Dolittle bristled.
"It's not particularly hard to understand," the other answered.
"I think it would have been kinder to Mrs. Lorraine if you had cautioned your companion not to tell--and followed your advice yourself."
"Well, I'm damned!" Dolittle sneered. "Learning propriety from a bar-tender."
"It doesn't make a heap of difference where you learn it, so long as you do learn it," said Emerson good-naturedly. "The only trouble with you is you never can learn it--you're too all-fired conceited and satisfied with yourself, my young friend."
"Do you hear what they are saying, Porshinger?" he demanded curtly.