platonic flirtation of a middle-aged man, who never expected to
inspire or feel a great love. Only now, when he had shared a
serious trouble with her, had passed through common difficulties
and dangers, he was finding what accident may do--how it may fan a
first liking into a stronger flame. It was absurd, of course. He
was fifty-one, he had weathered many trifling affairs of the
heart, and here he was, bowled over at last, and by a woman he was
not certain was entitled to his respect.

What was he to do?

The answer came at once and unhesitatingly, as it would to any
other honest, chivalrous gentleman.

"By George, I'll stick to her through thick and thin! I'll trust
her whatever happens or has happened, come what may. Such a woman
as that is above suspicion. She _must_ be straight. I should be
a beast and a blackguard double distilled to think anything else.
I am sure she can put all right with a word, can explain
everything when she chooses. I will wait till she does."

Thus fortified and decided, Sir Charles took his way to the Hôtel
Madagascar about noon. At the desk he inquired for the Countess,
and begged that his card might be sent up to her. The man looked
at it, then at the visitor, as he stood there waiting rather
impatiently, then again at the card. At last he walked out and
across the inner courtyard of the hotel to the office. Presently
the manager came back, bowing low, and, holding the card in his
hand, began a desultory conversation.