"They? Who?" asked Brendon, lifting his eyebrows.
"I do, for one," said Vane in his weak voice; "a fellow told me that she owed her success to you."
"I am not sorry to put you right on that point," replied Brendon, his eyes hardening; "many false rumors are about--to one of which you alluded the other day, Mrs. Ward. This is another. What I know of Senora Velez, and how I know her, can be put in a nutshell," and George quietly related his rescue of the dancer.
"Then you did make her the success she is!" cried Mrs. Ward, when he ended. "Oh, yes, it's no use denying it. You picked a jewel out of the gutter and gave it a chance of shining."
"Perhaps I did that much. But she made a success by her genius."
"I hope she is grateful," murmured Vane, with a malicious smile.
Brendon turned on him sharply. "I don't know what you mean by gratitude," he said deliberately.
"Well," drawled the little dandy, "she is pretty and----"
"She is not at all pretty, Mr. Vane, and were she as lovely as Cleopatra it would not matter to me. My connection with her ceased when she made her success." George quite forgot the presence of Mrs. Ward and spoke vehemently. "Can't you understand that a man may do a kind action without being biased by the beauty of a woman?"
"Some men can," said Mrs. Ward, politely, "and I am sure you are one, Mr. Brendon. But suppose the woman----"