have I done to make the fools misunderstand? You must tell
me!"

"Nothing serious. Only--well, you have gone about with a queer lot
sometimes."

"Men or women?"

"Madame d'Ambre, for instance."

"Yes; but I haven't talked to her for a long time now."

"You've talked to others like her, and--worse."

"Would you have me be cruel? If some of the poor, pretty creatures here
aren't quite what they ought to be, because they've been badly brought
up or unfortunate, would you think it right and womanly not to answer
when they speak, or to turn one's back on them, or slam the Casino door
in their faces, as some cross-looking people do? Wouldn't that drive
them to being worse?"

It was difficult to answer this question with due regard to the laws of
God and man, and at the same time give Galatea a lesson in social
decorum. "I suppose," he said slowly, "you'll just have to follow your
star."

"I don't see any star now worth following. Oh, Captain Hannaford, I was
so happy! It was such a beautiful, lovely world till to-night! Now I
feel as if joy and luck were both gone."

"Does it comfort you a little to know that here's one man who'd do
anything for you?" he asked. "There never was such a friend as I'll try
to be, if you'll have me."

"Thank you," Mary answered. "I shall be very glad of your friendship. I
shall feel and remember it wherever I go."

"Wherever you go? You mean----"

"Yes. I think I must go away--go on to Italy."

"If somebody has hurt you, don't go yet," Hannaford urged. "It would
look as if--well, as if you felt too much. Don't you see?"

"I shouldn't like to give that impression," she said, almost primly.
Then, with a change of tone, "But I can't--I won't stay at the hotel
where I am. To-night at her house Lady Dauntrey invited me to come and
stay there. I was asked before, to Christmas dinner. I could accept, I
suppose?"

"Hm!" Hannaford grumbled, frowning. But he thought quickly, and it
seemed to him that perhaps even Lady Dauntrey's chaperonage might be
better than none. There was nothing against the woman, as far as he
knew, except that she whitewashed her face and had strange eyes. The
rich Mrs. Ernstein, who was staying at the Villa Bella Vista, was
undoubtedly--even dully--respectable, if common. Neither was there any
real harm in Miss Wardropp; and poor Dauntrey did not seem to be a bad
fellow at heart.

"It's not ideal there, I'm afraid," Hannaford said at last, "but for
lack of a