Harding smiled dryly, but his daughter turned to Appleby with a gleam of compassion in her eyes and held out her hand.
“We are very glad to meet you, Mr. Broughton,” she said.
Appleby felt grateful for the tactful kindness which restrained any sign of astonishment, but Harding laughed.
“I never go back upon anything my daughter says, but I don’t know that I’m sorry we shall not be honored with the company of any more of the Sin Verguenza,” he said. “We have ordered comida, and should be pleased if you will sit down with us.”
Appleby would have excused himself, but Harper broke in, “The Sin Verguenza have gone, and it’s not going to worry me if they never come back again. As to the other question, I can generally find a use for a dinner, and if my company’s any pleasure be glad to throw it in.”
Appleby would have offered an explanation, but Harper silenced him by a gesture, and the landlord came in with the viands.
“Bring more plates. These gentlemen will eat with me,” said Harding.
The landlord appeared astonished, and stared at Harper with bewildered incredulity, until Nettie Harding, who was quick-witted, laughed, and the bronze grew deeper in Appleby’s cheeks. Harper, however, was by no means disconcerted.
“Well,” he said naively, “out of compliment to your father I’ll worry through another one. You see, it may be quite a long while before we get a meal again.”
They sat down, and while Appleby said very little Harding talked tactfully of England and America, and made no allusion to anything that concerned Cuba. Harper seconded him ably, for there was, as usual with his countrymen, no diffidence in him; and Appleby wondered whether there was any reason for Miss Harding’s curious little smile. Then when the fruit was removed Harding closed the door and took out his cigar case.