ene had made a mistake about you.
She'd got a notion you were a millionaire like the little Cooley, but
I knew better from your talk. She's clever, but she's French, and she
can't get it out of her head that you could be an American and not a
millionaire. Of course, they _all_ knew better when you brought out
your express checks and talked like somebody in one of the old-time
story-books about 'debts of honor.' Even Helene understood then that
the express checks were all you had." She laughed. "I didn't have any
trouble gettin' the _note_ back!"

She paused again for a moment, then resumed: "There isn't much use our
goin' over it all, but I want you to know one thing. Your little friend
Cooley made it rather clear that he accused Helene and me of signalin'.
Well, I didn't. Perhaps that's the reason you didn't lose as much as he
did; I can't say. And one thing more: all this isn't goin' to do you any
harm. I'm not very keen about philosophy and religion and that, but I
believe if you're let in for a lot of trouble, and it only _half_ kills
you, you can get some good of it."

"Do you think," he stammered--"do you think I'm worth saving?"

She smiled faintly and said:

"You've probably got a sweetheart in the States somewhere--a nice girl,
a pretty young thing who goes to church and thinks you're a great man,
perhaps? Is it so?"

"I am not worthy," he began, choked suddenly, then finished--"to breathe
the same air!"

"That's quite right," Lady Mount-Rhyswicke assured him. "Think what
you'd think of her if she'd got herself into the same sort of scrape by
doin' the things you've been doin'! And remember _that_ if you ever feel
impatient with her, or have any temptations to superiority in times to
come. And yet"--for the moment she spoke earnestly--"you go back to your
little girl, but don't you tell her a word of this. You couldn't
even tell her that meetin' you has helped me, because she wouldn't
understand."

"Nor do I. I can't."

"Oh, it's simple. I saw that if I was gettin' down to where I was
robbin' babies and orphans...." The cab halted. "Here's your corner. I
told him only to go round the block and come back. Good-by. I'm off for
Amalfi. It's a good place to rest."

He got out dazedly, and the driver cracked his whip over the little
horse; but Mellin lifted a detaining hand.

"_A spet_," called Lady Mount-Rhyswicke to the driver. "What is it, Mr.
Mellin?"

"I can't--I can't look you in the face," he s