Honour rarely gets a dramatic test. It gets a small one, usually on a bad afternoon, when nobody would ever have known: the mistake you could quietly correct and never mention — or mention.
Mentioning it costs about twenty minutes of discomfort and buys something very difficult to acquire any other way. People remember who told them before they found out. Most reputations are not built on the big occasions at all; they are the sum of forty of these, each too small to notice on its own, none of which had a witness.