"All the more reason for trying to save him. Remember, you were pretty wild yourself."
"Wait! I don't say he's guilty of this charge; I want to believe him innocent—I'd like to help prove it. For that very reason it occurred to me that Laure—she's the dance-hall girl—might throw some light on the matter, so I put Rock to work on her. Well, his report wasn't pleasant. The girl talked, but what she said didn't help Phillips. She confessed that he'd been stealing right along and giving her the money."
Mrs. Cavendish was shocked, incredulous. After a moment, however, she shook her head positively and exclaimed, "I don't believe a word of it."
"She's going to swear to it."
"Her oath would be no better than her word—"
"Good Lord!" the colonel cried, testily. "Has this young imp completely hypnotized you women? The Kirby girl is frightened to death, and the Countess—well, she told me herself that her husband's jealousy was at the bottom of the whole thing. Laure, in spite of what she said to Rock, is behaving like a mad person. I dropped in at the Rialto this evening and she asked me what was the worst Pierce could expect. I made it strong, purposely, and I thought she'd faint. No, it's a nasty affair, all through. And, by Jove! to cap the climax, you and Josephine take part in it! I flatter myself that I'm democratic, but—have him here to dine! Gad! That's playing democracy pretty strong."
"It isn't fair to imply that he's nothing more than a ladies' man.
They're detestable. The men like Phillips, too."
"True," Cavendish admitted. "He has the God-given faculty of making friends, and for that alone I can forgive him almost anything. It's a wonderful faculty—better than being born lucky or rich or handsome. I'm fond of him, but I've favored him all I can. If I thought Josephine were seriously interested in him—well, I wouldn't feel so friendly." The speaker laughed shortly, "No. The man who claims that girl's attention must be clean through and through. He must stand the acid test."
When his wife silently approved this sentiment the colonel picked up his paper and resumed his reading.
Pierce's friends were indeed uniformly indignant, and without exception they maintained their faith in his innocence; most of them, in fact, actually applied themselves to the task of clearing him of Courteau's charge. But of the latter the one who applied herself the most thoughtfully, the most seriously, was the Countess Courteau. Having reasoned that she herself was indirectly responsible for his plight, she set about aiding him in a thoroughly feminine and indirect manner. It was an unpleasant undertaking; she took it up with intense abhorrence; it required her utmost determination to carry it on. Her plan had formed itself immediately she had learned what had happened; her meeting with the Count that evening and her unexpected solicitude, her unbidden attention to his injury, were a part of it. As time went on she assumed an air that amazed the man. She meekly accepted his reproaches, she submitted to his abuse; cautiously, patiently she paved the way to a reconciliation.