that whist was a regular amusement, accepted the invitation for his host
and himself. But when the evening came, Maltravers pleaded
indisposition, and Cleveland was obliged to go alone.

When the old gentleman returned about midnight, he found Maltravers
awaiting him in the library; and Cleveland, having won fourteen points,
was in a very gay, conversable humour.

"You perverse hermit!" said he, "talk of solitude, indeed, with so
pleasant a family a hundred yards distant! You deserve to be
solitary,--I have no patience with you. They complain bitterly of your
desertion, and say you were, at first, the _enfant de la maison_."

"So you like the Mertons? The clergyman is sensible, but commonplace."

"A very agreeable man, despite your cynical definition, and plays a very
fair rubber. But Vargrave is a first-rate player."

"Vargrave is there still?"

"Yes, he breakfasts with us to-morrow,--he invited himself."

"Humph!"

"He played one rubber; the rest of the evening he devoted himself to the
prettiest girl I ever saw,--Miss Cameron. What a sweet face! so modest,
yet so intelligent! I talked with her a good deal during the deals in
which I cut out. I almost lost my heart to her."

"So Lord Vargrave devoted himself to Miss Cameron?"