and and I--we are what you English people
call old-fashioned folk--we come, too. Not to play--oh, no, but, _you_
understand, just to look after 'er. She is so innocent, so young, so
beautiful!"

Chester looked kindly at Madame Wachner. It was very decent of
her--really good-natured and motherly--to take such an interest in poor
Sylvia and her delinquencies. Yes, that was the way to take this--this
matter which so shocked him. Sylvia Bailey--lovely, wilful, spoilt
Sylvia--was a very young woman, and ridiculously innocent, as this old
lady truly said.

He, Chester, knew that a great many nice people went to Monte Carlo, and
spent sometimes a good deal more money than they could afford at the
tables. It was absurd to be angry with Sylvia for doing here what very
many other people did in another place. He felt sincerely grateful to
this fat, vulgar looking woman for having put the case so clearly.

"It's very good of you to do that," he answered awkwardly; "I mean it's
very good of you to accompany Mrs. Bailey to this place," he looked round
him with distaste.

They were now downstairs, part of a merry, jostling crowd, which
contained, as all such crowds naturally contain, a rather rowdy element.
"It certainly is no place for Mrs. Bailey to come to by herself--"

He was going to add something, when Sylvia walked forward.

"Where's Count Paul?" she asked, anxiously, of Madame Wachner. "Surely he
did not stay on at the table after we left?"

Madame Wachner shook her head slightly.

"I don't know at all," she said, and then cast a meaning glance at
Chester. It was an odd look, and somehow it inspired him with a prejudice
against the person, this "Count Paul," of whom Sylvia had just spoken.

"Ah, here he is!" There was relief, nay gladness, ringing in Mrs.
Bailey's frank voice.

The Comte de Virieu was pushing his way through the slowly moving crowd.
Without looking at the Wachners, he placed ten louis in Sylvia's hand.

"Your last stake was doubled," he said, briefly. "Then that means, does
it not, Madame, that you have made thirty-two louis this evening? I
congratulate you."

Chester's prejudice grew, unreasonably. "Damn the fellow; then he was
honest, after all! But why should he congratulate Mrs. Bailey on having
won thirty-two louis?"

He acknowledged Sylvia's introduction of the Count very stiffly, and he
was relieved when the other turned on his heel--relieved, and yet puzzled
to see how surprised Sylvia