“No,” answered Maria Consuelo briefly.  “I was not going out.”

“I am just going away,” said Orsino by way of explanation, and he made as though he would take his leave.

“Do not go yet,” said Maria Consuelo.  Her look made the words imperative.

Spicca glanced from one to the other with a sort of submissive protest, and then all three sat down.  Orsino wondered what part he was expected to play in the trio, and wished himself away in spite of the interest he felt in the situation.

Maria Consuelo began to talk in a careless tone which reminded him of his first meeting with her in Gouache’s studio.  She told Spicca that Orsino had promised her his architect as a guide in her search for a lodging.

“What sort of person is he?” inquired Spicca, evidently for the sake of making conversation.

“Contini is a man of business,” Orsino answered.  “An odd fellow, full of talent, and a musical genius.  One would not expect very much of him at first, but he will do all that Madame d’Aranjuez needs.”

“Otherwise you would not have recommended him, I suppose,” said Spicca.

“Certainly not,” replied Orsino, looking at him.

“You must know, Madame,” said Spicca, “that Don Orsino is an excellent judge of men.”

He emphasised the last word in a way that seemed unnecessary.  Maria Consuelo had recovered all her equanimity and laughed carelessly.

“How you say that!” she exclaimed.  “Is it a warning?”

“Against what?” asked Orsino.

“Probably against you,” she said.  “Count Spicca likes to throw out vague hints—­but I will do him the credit to say that they generally mean something.”  She added the last words rather scornfully.

An expression of pain passed over the old man’s face.  But he said nothing, though it was not like him to pass by a challenge of the kind.  Without in the least understanding the reason of the sensation, Orsino felt sorry for him.

“Among men, Count Spicca’s opinion is worth having,” he said quietly.

Maria Consuelo looked at him in some surprise.  The phrase sounded like a rebuke, and her eyes betrayed her annoyance.

“How delightful it is to hear one man defend another!” she laughed.

“I fancy Count Spicca does not stand much in need of defence,” replied Orsino, without changing his tone.

“He himself is the best judge of that.”

Spicca raised his weary eyes to hers and looked at her for a moment, before he answered.

“Yes,” he said.  “I think I am the best judge.  But I am not accustomed to being defended, least of all against you, Madame.  The sensation is a new one.”