During the rest of the evening Fitz took one or two opportunities of looking at Eve to discover, if he could, what the difference was that he found in her. He had left a girl in Majorca--he found a woman in London. That was the whole difference; but he did not succeed in reducing it to so many words. He had passed most of his life at sea among men. He had not, therefore, had much opportunity of acquiring that doubtful knowledge--the knowledge of women--the only item, by the way, which men will never include among the sciences of existence. Already they know more about the stars than they do about women. Even if Fitz had possessed this knowledge he would not have turned it to account. The wisest fail to do that. We only make use of our knowledge of women in the study of those women with whom other men have to do.
“Fitz has grown rather dull and stupid,” said Mrs. Harrington, when the two guests had taken their leave.
Eve was folding up her work, and did not answer.
“Was he like that in Mallorca?” continued the grey lady.
“Oh--I think so. He was very quiet always.”
CHAPTER XV. DON QUIXOTE.
They also serve who only stand and wait.
“Come down to my club and have a cigar!”
The Count stood under a yellow lamp enveloped in his fur-lined coat, looking with heavy, deep-browed eyes at his young companion.
Fitz paused. The Count had been kind to Eve. Fitz had noticed his manner towards the girl. He liked Cipriani de Lloseta - as many did--without knowing why.