was still dressed in the shabby old frock and pinafore, and as
she came creeping in, threading her way deftly amongst the
young ladies in starched muslins and gay ribbons who were
fluttering about, she made the effect of a little brown moth
who had strayed into the midst of a swarm of brilliant
butterflies. No one took any notice of her, and she made her
way up to the large round table which had been pushed into the
far corner of the room, and near which Graham was standing.

"Do you want anything?" he asked, as he saw her raise herself
on tiptoe, and stretch forward over the table.

"I want _that_," she said, pointing to a miniature roulette
board, which stood in the middle, beyond the reach of her
small arm.

He gave it to her, and then stood watching to see what she
would do with it. She set to work with great deliberation;
first pulling a handful of sugar-plums out of her pocket, and
arranging them in a little heap at her side on the table, and
then proceeding with much gravity to stake them on the
numbers. She would put down a bonbon and give the board a
twirl; "_ving-cinq_," she would say; the ball flew round and
fell into a number; it might be ten, or twenty, or twenty-
five, it did not much matter; she looked to see what it was,
but right or wrong, never failed to eat the bonbon--an
illogical result, which contrasted quaintly with the intense
seriousness with which she made her stakes. Sometimes she
would place two or three sugar-plums on one number, always
naming it aloud--"_trente-et-un_," "_douze-premier_," "_douze-