"Never in that way," answered the lad, laughing; "I can get
through a game of whist decently enough, but I rarely touch
cards at all."

"Ah, then you are safe: otherwise I would have said, avoid M.
Linders; he has not the best reputation in the world, and he
has a brother-in-law who generally travels with him, and is
even a greater rogue than himself, but not so lucky--so they
say at least."

"Do you know him, this famous gambler? He does not look much
like one," says Graham.

"That is true; but he is a man of good birth and education, I
believe, though he has turned out such a _mauvais sujet_, and it
is part of his _métier_ to get himself up in that style. Yes, I
know him a little, from meeting him here and elsewhere; he is
always going about, sometimes _en prince_, sometimes in a more
humble way--but excuse me, dear Monsieur, Mademoiselle Cécile
has begun to play, and I am engaged to Mademoiselle Sophie for
this dance; she will never forgive me if I make her wait."

The dancers whirled on; the room grew hotter and hotter. M.
Linders had disappeared, and Graham began to think that he too
had had almost enough of it all, and that it would be pleasant
to seek peace and coolness in the deserted moonlit courtyard.
He was watching for a pause in the waltz that would admit of
his crossing the room, when his attention was attracted by the
same little girl he had seen that morning in the garden. She