Such a protection was entirely unnecessary, for every man in the room appeared to feel that he was in the presence of one who not only had the right, but the power, to command respect. In spite of her incongruous surroundings, and in spite of her extraordinary occupation of the moment, the coarse faces by which she was surrounded surveyed her with a certain marked and almost sheepish deference. As the game went on and the croupier monotonously raked in the winnings of the bank, Westerham suddenly divined the motive which had induced Melun to send him there to watch Lady Kathleen play. He did not know why she played, nor what the real stake might be, but one thing was obvious—that after he entered the room and she had caught sight of his face her luck suddenly changed. She had been greatly alarmed and distressed; so disconcerted, indeed, that for a few minutes she apparently lost all track of the successful theory which she had been following. And Westerham knew well enough that if a good player once becomes unnerved, his luck, for some strange reason, will change with his mood, and no efforts, however bold or desperate, will avail him anything. It amazed Westerham beyond measure that Lady Kathleen could play such a game with so consummate a skill and so much evidence of experience. He judged that her father at some time or other had let her have a little fling at Monte Carlo, and that profiting by such knowledge as she had acquired there she had now been playing an inspired game for some incalculable stake. Westerham imagined, too, that it had probably been Melun's brutal fancy to drag the girl there on the promise that if she won against the bank he would release her father from his torment; no other theory was possible. And it made his heart grow cold with rage as he appreciated the fiendish cleverness with which Melun had engineered his entrance at a critical moment. Westerham had been made the innocent instrument of utter disaster to Kathleen. So convinced did he become of this fact that he shouldered his way through the crowd, and leaning over Lady Kathleen's chair, whispered into her ear: “Don't be alarmed. I see you have been greatly upset. Please allow me to assist you.” The man at her right hand scowled angrily, but Westerham turned to him with an urbane smile. “As you do not seem to be playing,” he said, “perhaps you will allow me to have your chair?” Nor had the man any option but to vacate his seat. Westerham's spirits rose as for the first time in his life he found himself seated by Kathleen's side, playing on her behalf, to win a desperate game. But the girl's inspiration was gone, and even his skill at this form of gambling availed him nothing. Time after time they lost until practically nothing remained of the great pile of money which had been stacked on the table before Lady Kathleen when he had entered the room.