Nettie Harding smiled and shook her head reproachfully, but there was a little gleam in her eyes. “They fed you!” she said. “Now, there are men in my country who would have expressed themselves much more artistically. Still, you would have felt ashamed, wouldn’t you, if you had given yourself away? Do you know there is one reason why you made a second friend? You are like Julian, and when you meet him you will have a third who will, though he may not tell you so eloquently, remember what you have done for him.”
Appleby sat silent, as he usually did when in doubt. He was not a vain man or apt to lose his head, while the one woman he might have fallen in love with was far away in England; but he knew who Julian was, and wondered whether Miss Harding had meant to supply him with a useful hint. In the meanwhile the swish of dresses, patter of feet, and tinkle of guitars grew louder, and drowned the soft splashing of the fountain among the flowers.
“That sounds very pretty,” he said. “Have you noticed that there is something curious but alluring in Spanish music? They got it from the East, I think.”
Nettie laughed. “The shell fits you very close. Still, you told me you had made a second friend, and that implies a good deal, I think. That is why I am going to ask you a question. What brought you out from the old country? I want to know more than my father does.”
She looked him steadily in the eyes, and though Appleby was never quite sure why he did so he told her. Once or twice she asked an apposite question, and there was something in her close attention and unexpressed sympathy that wiled from him more than he had ever meant to communicate to any one, for Nettie Harding knew her influence and could direct it well. She sat thoughtfully silent for at least a minute when he had finished, and then once more looked at him.
“I don’t know if you expect appreciation—but I think you were very foolish,” she said.
“No,” said Appleby slowly. “Not in this case. You see, he was very fond of her.”
Again the little gleam showed in the girl’s eyes, but she shook her head. “I have paid you too many indirect compliments, though you naturally did not notice them, to waste any more on you, and I am going to talk straight,” she said. “The Deus ex machina is quite too big a part for you. To put it differently—why did you meddle with affairs altogether beyond your comprehension?”
“I think I told you she was very fond of him.”
“You didn’t,” said Nettie. “Still, we are getting considerably nearer the truth now. Do you know you hit off that girl’s character with an insight I never suspected you had in you? You made me understand her. And you had seen her for just fourteen days.”