of the game."

"However little it may be, Sir Marmaduke," said Lambert firmly, speaking
directly to his employer, "I humbly pray you to excuse me before these
gentlemen ..."

The three players at the table, as well as the two Endicotts, had
listened to this colloquy with varying feelings. Segrave was burning
with impatience, Lord Walterton was getting more and more fractious,
whilst Sir Michael Isherwood viewed the young secretary with marked
hauteur. At the last words spoken by Lambert there came from all these
gentlemen sundry ejaculations, expressive of contempt or annoyance,
which caused an ugly frown to appear between de Chavasse's eyes, and a
deep blush to rise in the young man's pale cheek.

"What do you mean?" queried Sir Marmaduke harshly.

"There are other gentlemen here," said Lambert, speaking with more
firmness and decision now that he encountered inimical glances and felt
as if somehow he was on his trial before all these people, "and I am not
rich enough to afford the luxury of gambling."

"Nay! if that is your difficulty," rejoined Sir Marmaduke, "I pray you,
good master, to command my purse ... you are under my wing to-night ...
and I will gladly bear the burden of your losses."

"I thank you, Sir Marmaduke," said the young man, with quiet dignity,"
and I entreat you once again to excuse me.... I have never staked at
cards, either mine own money or that of others. I would prefer not to
begin."

"Meseems ... hic ... de Chavasse, that this ... this young friend of
yours is a hic ... damned Puritan ..." came in ever thickening accents
from Lord Walterton.

"I hope, Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse," here interposed Endicott with much
pompous dignity, "that your ... hem ... your young friend doth not
desire to bring insinuations doubts, mayhap, against the honor of my
house ... or of my friends!"

"Nay! nay! good Endicott," said Sir Marmaduke, speaking in tones that
were so conciliatory, so unlike his own quarrelsome temper, quick at
taking offense, that Richard Lambert could not help wondering what was
causing this change, "Master Lambert hath no such intention--'pon my
honor ... He is young ... and ... and he misunderstands.... You see, my
good Lambert," he added, once more turning to the young man, and still
speaking with unwonted kindness and patience, "you are covering yourself
with ridicule and placing me--who am your protector to-night--in a very
awkward position. Had I known you were such a gab