"
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?"
"Suffering?" Nina repeated, wondering. "I don't know. But it is only a
business venture, his mining--not a philanthropic one. At least I have
not heard about any poor people who are to be relieved."
Zoya put her hands over her eyes and then her ears as though to shut out
both sight and sound. "Oh, it is horrible--horrible in the sulphur
mines! You have no idea! Nowhere in all the world is life so dreadful."
She shuddered, "But I feel sure, somehow, that your friend the American
will be able to do something."
They went on talking until their _tete-a-tete_ was interrupted by the
men coming in from the dining-room.
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