Marion was discussing dog-breeding with that cool, crude, direct insouciance so unpleasant to some men. Sylvia was attentive, curious, and instinctively shrinking by turns, secretly dismayed at the overplainness of terms employed in kennel lore by the girl at her side.

The conversation veered toward the Sagamore pup. Marion explained that Siward was too busy to do any Southern shooting, which was why he was glad to have her polish Sagamore on Jersey woodcock.

"I thought it was not good for a dog to be used by anybody except his master," said Sylvia carelessly.

"Only second-raters suffer. Besides, I have shot enough, now, with Mr. Siward to use his dog as he does."

"He is an agreeable shooting companion, smiled Sylvia.

"He is perfect," answered Marion coolly. "The only test for a thoroughbred is the field. He rings true."

They exchanged carefully impersonal views on Siward's good qualities for a moment or two; then Marion said bluntly: "Do you know anything in particular about that Patroons Club affair?"

"No," said Sylvia, "nothing in particular."

"Neither do I; and I don't care to; I mean, that I don't care what he did; and I wish that gossiping old Major would stop trying to hint it to me."

"My uncle!"

"Oh! I forgot. Beg your pardon, you know, but--"

"I'm not offended," observed Sylvia, with a shrug of her pretty, bare shoulders.

Marion laughed. "Such a gadabout! Besides, I'm no prude, but he and Leroy Mortimer have no business to talk to unmarried women the way they do. No matter how worldly wise we are, men have no right to suppose we are."

"Pooh!" shrugged Sylvia. "I have no patience to study out double-entendre, so it never shocks me. Besides--"

She was going to add that she was not at all versed in doubtful worldly wisdom, but decided not to, as it might seem to imply disapproval of Marion's learning. So she went on: "Besides, what have innuendoes to do with Mr. Siward?"

"I don't know whether I care to understand them. The Major hinted that the woman--the one who figured in it--is--rather exclusively Mr. Siward's 'property.'"

"Exclusively?" repeated Sylvia curiously. "She's a public actress, isn't she?"

"If you call the manoeuvres of a newly fledged chorus girl acting, yes, she is. But I don't believe Mr. Siward figures in that unfashionable rôle. Why, there are too many women of his own sort ready for mischief." Marion turned to Sylvia, her eyes hard with a cynicism quite lost on the other. "That sort of thing might suit Leroy Mortimer, but it doesn't fit Mr. Siward," she concluded, rising as their hostess appeared from above and the butler from below.




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