out of their midst.
Accordingly, whilst keeping the gaming rooms closed against natives
resident in the department, the Administration throw open all the other
pleasures of Monte Carlo, inviting the people of Monaco to stroll in
their beautiful gardens, to listen to the concerts played twice a day by
a superb band, and to make unfettered use of what is perhaps the best
reading-room on the Continent. Monaco gets a good deal of pleasure out
of Monte Carlo, which moreover brings much good money into the place.
The Casino will surely at no distant day share the fate of the German
gambling places. But, as surely, the initiative of this most desirable
consummation will not come from Monaco.

In the meanwhile, Monte Carlo, like the mosquitoes, is having a high
good time. Night and day the tables are crowded, beginning briskly at
eleven in the morning and closing wearily on the stroke of midnight.
There are a good many English about, but they do not contribute largely
to the funds of the amiable and enterprising Administration. English
girls, favoured by an indulgent father or a good-natured brother, put
down their five-franc pieces, and, having lost them, go away smiling.
Sometimes the father or the brother may be discovered seated at the
tables later in the day, looking a little flushed, and poorer by some
sovereigns. But Great Britain and Ireland chiefly contribute spectators
to the melancholy and monotonous scene.

As usual, women are among the most reckless players. Looking in at two
o'clock one afternoon I saw at one of the tables a well-dressed lady of
about thirty, with a purseful of gold before her and a bundle of notes
under her elbow. She was playing furiously, disdaining the mild
excitement of the five-franc piece, always staking gold. She was losing,
and boldly played on with an apparent composure belied by her flushed
cheeks and flashing eyes. I saw her again at ten o'clock in the evening.
She was playing at another table, having probably tried to retrieve her
luck at each in succession. The bank notes were gone, and she had put
away her purse, for it was easy to hold in her prettily-gloved hand her
remaining store of gold. It was only eight hours since I had last seen
her, but in the meantime she had aged by at least ten years. She sat
looking fixedly on the table, from time to time moistening her dry lips
with scarcely less dry tongue. Her face wore a look of infinite sadness,
which might have been best relieve