Ellsworth's. It's not her business.
Don't confide any more than you need, and if she pretends to confide in
_you_ understand that it will be for a purpose. The Countess is no
_ingenue_!
"But enough about her," he went on, abruptly. "She sha'n't spoil our
first breakfast together, even by reminding me of gloomy meals I used
sometimes to eat with her when we happened to find ourselves in each
other's society on board the _Monarchic_. I was feeling down on my luck
then, and she wasn't the one to cheer me up. But things are different
now. Have you noticed, by the way, that she has a nickname for me?"
"Yes," Annesley admitted. "She calls you 'Don.'"
"It's a name she made up because she used to say, when we first met, I
was like a Spaniard; and I can jabber Spanish among other lingos. It's
more her native tongue, you know, than English. I only refer to it
because I want you to have a special name of your own for me, and I don't
want it to be that one. It can't be Nelson, because--well, I can never be
at home as Nelson with the girl I love best--the one who knows how I came
to call myself that. Will you make up a name for me, and begin to get
used to it to-day? I'd like it if you could.
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