Part 28 (1/2)

The Count swore softly in Spanish.

”I am sorry for that,” he said aloud. ”I am superst.i.tious. I have a theory that Mrs. Harrington's money is apt to be a curse to those upon whom it is bestowed.”

”Mrs. Harrington's no friend of mine,” said Captain Bontnor; and De Lloseta, who was looking out of the window, smiled somewhat grimly.

”Perhaps,” he said after a little pause, ”perhaps you will allow me to claim the privilege which you deny to her?”

”Yes,” answered Captain Bontnor awkwardly; ”yes, if you care to.”

”Thanks. I see Miss Challoner--Eve--coming. I count on your a.s.sistance.”

Eve paused on the threshold in astonishment at the sight of the Count de Lloseta and her uncle in grave discourse over a gla.s.s of sherry.

”You!” she said. ”You here!”

And he wondered why she suddenly lost colour.

”I,” he answered, ”I--here to pay my respects.”

Eve gave a little gasp of relief. For a moment she was off her guard--with a dangerous man watching her.

”I thought you had bad news,” she said.

And Cipriani de Lloseta knew that this was a woman whose heart was at sea.

”No,” he answered; ”I merely came to quarrel.”

He drew forward a chair, and Eve sat down.

”We shall always quarrel,” he went on, ”unless you are kind. Let us begin at once and get it over, because I want to stay to lunch.

Will you reconsider your decision with respect to the Val d'Erraha?”

Eve shook her head and looked at her uncle.

”No,” she answered; ”I cannot do that. Not now.”

”Some day?” he suggested.

”Not now,” repeated the girl; and, looking up, her face suddenly became grave, as if reflecting the expression in the dark Spanish eyes bent upon her.

”You are cruel!” he said.

”I am young--”

”Is it not the same thing?”

”And I can work,” added Eve.

”Yes,” he said. ”But in my old-fas.h.i.+oned way I am prejudiced against a lady working. In the days of women's rights ladies are apt to forget the charm of white hands.”