He swung round upon his heel, and Miss Clavier braced herself for an effort, as the result of which the two condescending youths retreated somewhat precipitately with flushed faces. Then she did a thing that would have astonished Tony, for she leaned back in the garden seat and with an abrupt movement passed her handkerchief across her eyes. It was a moment or two later when, looking up at the sound of a footstep, she saw Nettie Harding gravely regarding her, and to her vexation as well as astonishment felt the blood tingle in her cheeks.
“Yes,” said Nettie quietly. “I heard what you told them. They deserved it, and you did it very well. Now, I’ve been talking about nothing for most of two hours, and this place seems nice and quiet. You don’t mind my sitting here with you a little?”
Nettie Harding’s directness was usually assumed, because she found it convenient in England when she had anything delicate to do, and Miss Clavier, who read sympathy in her face, was grateful to her. She also hoped her companion would not notice the moisture on her long dark lashes.
“I am paid for coming here, you understand?” she said. “I dance and mimic people on the stage.”
“Of course!” said Nettie. “Well, my father once peddled oranges on the trains; and they make quite a fuss over people who are on the stage in London, while I don’t think many of them could have done that last piece of yours half as cunningly. Anyway, I haven’t laughed as much since I’ve been in England. If you did it in New York you’d coin money.”
She sat down smiling, and Miss Clavier regarded her out of half-closed eyes. There was nobody very near them, and only two dim colored lights above their heads. Somebody was singing, and a sweet tenor voice floated away into the stillness of the moonlit night. Miss Clavier glanced swiftly round into the shadows of the copper beech that fell blackly athwart the seat.
“You like frankness in your country,” she said. “Now I am, perhaps, going to offend you, but I don’t mind if I do. I saw you talking a good deal to Mr. Tony Palliser at Darsley and here to-night.”
Nettie contrived to hide her astonishment, but she felt that another thread was being placed in her hand.
“Well,” she said, “American young women are permitted to talk to gilt-edge Englishmen, and even to marry them now and then. It really isn’t astonishing.”
“No,” said her companion. “Still, it would be a blunder for an American girl who hadn’t seen many Englishmen to marry Tony Palliser.”