When she came down into the drawing-room, an hour later, she found awaiting her there the two men about whom she thought most.
Cipriani de Lloseta and Fitz were standing on the hearthrug together. Mrs. Harrington had not yet come down. They came forward together, the Count taking her hand first, with his courteous bow. Fitz followed, shaking hands in silence, with that simplicity which she had learned to look for and to like in him.
“I wonder,” said Eve, “why Mrs. Harrington did not tell me that you were the two friends she expected to dinner?”
The Count smiled darkly.
“Perhaps our hostess does not know that we have met before - ” he began; and stopped suddenly when the door opened, and the rustle of Mrs. Harrington’s silk dress heralded her coming.
Her quick eyes flashed over them with a comprehensive appreciation of the situation.
“You all seem to know each other,” she said sharply. “I knew that Fitz had been of some service to you at D’Erraha; but I was not aware that you knew the Count de Lloseta.”
“The Count de Lloseta was very kind to me at Barcelona--on a matter of business,” explained Eve innocently.
Mrs. Harrington turned upon the Spaniard quickly, but nevertheless too late to catch the warning frown which he had directed towards Eve. Mrs. Harrington looked keenly into his face, which was blandly imperturbable.
“Then you are the owner of D’Erraha?”