on.

Mary, despite her blank ignorance of the world and its ways, was far
from stupid or slow of understanding. She realized that Schuyler's
harangue to Madame d'Ambre was all, or almost all, for her: and she
caught his meaning in the last sentence of the rainbow allegory. He
wanted her to know that she had "begun at the bottom," and must beware.
She was half vexed, half grateful; vexed for Madeleine, and grateful for
herself, because, being Peter's hero, he must be a good man, who would
not be cruel to a woman for sheer love of cruelty. But her shamed pity
for Madeleine was stronger than her gratitude; and instead of giving
less out of her winnings than she had planned to give, she impulsively
decided to give more; this, not because she believed in or liked
Madeleine d'Ambre, but because she winced under a sister woman's
humiliation. The ugly flash in the eyes that had been wistful, shocked
her. She saw that they were cat-coloured eyes, and Jim Schuyler scored
as he meant to score, in her resolve to pay Madame d'Ambre well, then
gently to slip out of her friendship.

"When we finish supper, she can go with me to my hotel, and we'll divide
the money into three parts," Mary said to herself. "I'll give her two,
and keep one. Even one will be like a little fortune; and whatever
happens I'll keep enough to get away with; but I _must_ play again
to-morrow. It's too wonderful to stop yet."

But she was reckoning without Jim Schuyler.

When he saw the eyes of Madeleine hint that it was time to go, he said
quickly, "Well, Mademoiselle, have you counted your winnings, and do you
know exactly what they amount to?"

"No," said Mary, "not yet. I thought Madame d'Ambre and I might do that
afterward."

"Can't we save you the trouble?" he asked. "Why not spread your store
here on the table, and let us all work out the calculation? Everybody
knows you broke the bank, so there's no imprudence or ostentation in
displaying your wealth."

Without a word, Mary accepted the suggestion, since not to do so would
have seemed ungrateful.

"She's given away a lot already," said Carleton. "I saw her distributing
_mille_ notes to lovely but unfortunate gamblers, as if she were dealing
out biscuits."

"Oh, I gave away only four," Mary excused herself. "They were nothing."

Everybody laughed except Madeleine.

The fat stacks of French banknotes were extracted with some effort from
the hand-bag into which they had been stuffed. Captain H