In the meanwhile Lady Dorothy went off into a long disquisition upon the advisability of having couches at formal banquets as in the old Roman days.  The illustration which she was at the moment affording was scarcely, to Nina’s mind, encouraging to her proposition.  She smoked rapidly and let the cigarette ashes spill all down the side of her neck.

“Isn’t it funny what a little place the world is?” babbled the late Miss Titherington, cutting short Lady Dorothy’s discourse.  “Here we are, you and I and John—­just the same as though we were back in Bar Harbor!  What a lamb of a child you used to be!  Only do you remember the day you nearly drowned me?  And he had to rescue us both!”

“Just fancy that!” said the Lady Dorothy from her corner of the sofa.  “However did it happen?”

“The water in Maine is so cold one dare hardly go in.  Nina was a little girl, she got a cramp, and clutched me around the neck.”

“The water cold!  How very odd!  I had a friend in St. Augustine, who said the water was positively hot.  I am sure it must have been, as my friend has rheumatism and could never have ventured into a cold bath.”

Lady Dorothy lighted a fresh cigarette and waved the old one helplessly around in her fingers.  Nina, afraid that she would let it fall upon the trail of ashes down the front of her dress, went to take it from her.

“Oh, thanks.”  She threw herself even further back into the cushions and now addressed her remarks to the Countess Kate.  She was glad to get away from home.  She declared London was overrun this season with enormously, disgustingly, rich Americans.  No offense to her hostess was meant, but it was really quite shameful whom one got down to associating with, and yet they were so overloaded with dollars that one might as well, she supposed, gather in some of the surplus!  Then she coolly asked Nina’s name, which she had not caught.  Its announcement had the effect of an electric battery.  She raised herself on her elbows.

“The Earl of Eagon is looking for a wife,” she announced, and then as though the idea of Nina’s wealth were still more felt, she continued almost with enthusiasm, “And there is the Duke of Norchester—­his estates need a fortune to keep up, but there are none finer in England.”

Nina’s expression had a curious little note in it that made the Countess Zoya cross the room and sit on the arm of her chair.  Her slim fingers ran lightly over Nina’s hair, “You poor child!” she said.  “Ah, I am glad I was never so rich.  If I were so rich I should be dreadful!  I would never believe in any one’s caring for me.  I should doubt even my Carlo!  I could not help it!”

“Don’t,” Nina said, as though in pain.  Zoya impulsively put her arms about her and quickly changed the subject.

“I want to tell you,” she said, “I like your friend the engineer—­is that what he is?  He is very clever, is he not?  I am told he is going to relieve the sufferings of the poor Sicilian miners—­is he?”