"I dare say she could spare me; I'm not a very entertaining companion," Lisle said humbly. "It wasn't that," Bella explained. "I don't think she'd like you spoiled--perhaps I should say contaminated; she has ideas on the subject of education, too. She always calls me Miss Crestwick, which is significant; I've no doubt she did so when Marple made himself conspicuous by his amusement just now." Lisle had noticed the correctness of her assumptions on other occasions, but he said nothing, for he had noticed some bitterness in her voice. He walked on with her and she led him into a path through a shrubbery bordering the lawn, where she sat down on a wooden seat. "Now," she said teasingly, "we have given the others something to think about; but I've really no designs on you. It wouldn't be much use, anyway. You're safe." She looked up at him with elfish mischief in her aggressively pretty face. Dressed in some clinging fabric of pale watery green that matched the greenish light in her eyes and the reddish gleam in her hair, she was very alluring; but it was borne in upon Lisle that to take up her challenge too boldly would lower him in the girl's regard. "I'm human," he laughed. "Perhaps I'd better mention it. But I think it's more to the purpose to say that I'm altogether at your disposal." "Well," she answered, "I wanted you. As you're almost a stranger, it's curious, isn't it? But, you see, I haven't a real friend in the world." "I wonder if that can be quite correct?" "So far as the people here go, haven't you eyes?" Lisle had seen the men gather about her, but it was those he thought least of who followed her most closely, and the women stood aloof. "There are Miss Marple and her mother, anyway; they're friends of yours," he pointed out. "Just so. Flo and I are in the same class, making the same fight; but that isn't always a reason for mutual appreciation or support. Mrs. Marple, of course, is her daughter's partizan, though in some ways it suits us to stand together. But I didn't bring you here to listen to my grievances, but because you happen to be the one man I can trust." Lisle looked embarrassed, but merely bent his head. "It's that silly brother of mine again," she went on. "What has he been doing now?" "It's what he's thinking of doing that's the worst. He has been led to believe it's easy to acquire riches on the stock exchange and that he has the makings of a successful speculator in him. Cards and the turf I've had to tolerate--after all, there were ways in which he got some return for what he spent on them--but this last craze may be disastrous." "Where did he get the idea that he's a financial genius? It wouldn't be from you." "No," she said seriously; "I'm his sister and most unlikely to encourage him in such delusions. I don't think Batley had much trouble in putting the notion into his mind." Her expression suddenly changed. "How I hate that man!" Lisle looked down at her with grave sympathy.