"Ah! There you ask me something that is beyond my poor powers of
discrimination. Mrs. Harrington does not wear her feelings on her
sleeve. She is difficult."

"Very," admitted Agatha, with a little sigh.

"I am naturally interested in the FitzHenrys," she went on after a
little pause, with baffling frankness. "You see, we were children
together."

"So I understand. I too am interested in them--merely because I
like them."

"I am afraid," continued Agatha, tentatively turning the pages of
the music which he had set before her, speaking as if she was only
half thinking of what she was saying--"I am afraid that Mrs.
Harrington is the sort of person to do an injustice. She almost
told my mother that she intended to leave all her money to one of
them."

Again that little flicker of the Count's patient eyelids.

"Indeed!" he said. "To which one?"

Agatha shrugged her shoulders and began playing. "That is not so
much the question. It is the principle--the injustice--that one
objects to."

"Of course," murmured De Lloseta, with a little nod. "Of course."