"Not quite so bad--he is rather better mannered and has more feeling. The conversation that Marcia detailed illustrates the difference between the men, I should say. Murchison was for letting well enough alone--which only seemed to make Porshinger the more determined."
"On the whole, Porshinger must be a very pleasant fellow to have camping on one's trail!" smiled Stephanie. "I'm curious to hear Montague's opinion."
"I'd rather hear him express it to a _man_--it would likely be a trifle more picturesque!" Gladys laughed.
"What can Porshinger do?" Stephanie asked.
"What _can't_ he do with all his money and financial influence! God is on the side of the heaviest bank account."
"All things being equal, I grant it; but there is a wide difference between Montague Pendleton and Charles Porshinger as men--and I've faith in the blood. It will win, Gladys, it will win."
"Blood doesn't count for much in these automobile pace days," Gladys responded. "It is the money that talks."
"Blood counts for much in such a contest."
"Not where money is the basis of everything except eligibility to hereditary societies of the self-glorification stripe."
"You're too pessimistic!" laughed Stephanie.
"My dear, you haven't a father who is an officer in the Tuscarora Trust Company--and you haven't seen the men who visit him. It's a sad commentary on what we are coming to--and the elevation of the parvenu. Let's change the subject. I'm becoming excited; the next thing I'll ditch the car, or run into a telegraph pole."
A little later, as they spun down the macadam near the Criss-Cross gates, they passed a station-wagon drawn by a spanking pair of bays.
The man in it took off his hat and bowed.
"There is Porshinger now!" said Stephanie.
Gladys nodded. "He has come out to spend the night at the Woodsides', I reckon--it's their conveyance."
"I see the Lorraine woman is with Gladys Chamberlain," observed Porshinger, as he and his host were enjoying a good-night smoke in the billiard room, and incidentally knocking the balls about.
"Hum!" replied Woodside, as he made a neat gather along the rail. "When did you see her--come down on the same train?"
"No--passed them in the car, as I came from the station. What's she going to do--make it up with Lorraine, if he recovers?"