er admirers shall hope to win the
queen of women?"

"I'm with you there, Denholm!" said Lord Alvaston heartily, "and
talking o' queens, not an ace have I touched this game--I'm done!"

"Same here!" growled Mr. Marchdale. "You've all the luck, Dalroyd. I
owe you another fifty, I think?"

"Seventy-five!" murmured Mr. Dalroyd.

"Well, I'm for bed!" yawned his lordship.

"So'm I!" nodded Mr. Marchdale.

"Eh--bed?" cried the Marquis reproachfully. "Bed--and not gone twelve
yet--shameful, O dem!"

"'Tis the country air," explained Marchdale, "in London I'm at my best
and brightest at three o'clock in the morning as you very well know,
Alton, but here I'm different, 'tis the curst country air, I think."

"And the churn!" said the Marquis, "Betty kept you at it, you and Ben,
not to mention the rhubarb wine, I escaped that--eh, Ben?"

"You were nearer the window!" sighed Sir Benjamin, rising.

"What, are you for bed too? Nay, stop at least for a nightcap or
so--let's have up another half-dozen o' burgundy!"

"Nay, bed for me," yawned his lordship of Alvaston, "we may be set
a-digging or a-ploughing or some such, to-morrow--one never can
tell----"

"Ha!" exclaimed the Captain, "would lose a hundred--joyfully, to see
Alvaston perform on the hoe, begad!"

So amid much laughter and banter the company arose and in twos and
threes sauntered up to their various rooms, all save Mr. Dalroyd who,
left alone, sat awhile playing idly with the cards that littered the
table. At last he slipped a white hand into the bosom of his coat and
taking thence a scrap of soiled and crumpled paper, smoothed it out and
perused it thoughtfully, and, as he read, his lips curved and his
nostrils quivered; then, re-folding this strange missive he put it away
and, ringing the bell, demanded his valet.

In due time came a discreet knock and thereafter a discreet person
entered, tall, quick-eyed, low-voiced, soft-stepping, he was a very
model of a fashionable gentleman's gentleman though his eyes were
perhaps a little too close together and their glance a trifle furtive.

"Joseph," said Mr. Dalroyd, surveying his 'gentleman' with a languid
interest yet with eyes that seemed to observe his entire person at one
and the same time. "Joseph, this afternoon I gave you leave to ramble
abroad, well knowing your passion for country roads and cross-roads."
Joseph bowed supple back and smiled deferentially, though his eyes
appeared somehow to come