he turn which their conversation had taken hitherto had offered
no opening to Tom for introducing the object of his visit, and he
felt less and less inclined to come to the point. He looked his
host over and over again, and the more he looked the less he
fancied asking anything like a favor of him. However, as it had
to be done, he thought he couldn't do better than fall into his
ways for a few hours, and watch for a chance. The man seemed good
natured in his way; and all his belongings--the fine park and
house, and gardens and stables--were not without their effect on
his young guest. It is not given to many men of twice his age to
separate a man from his possessions, and look at him apart from
them. So he yielded easily enough, and they went to billiards in
a fine room opening out of the hall; and Tom, who was very fond
of the game, soon forgot everything in the pleasure of playing on
such a table.

It was not a bad match. Mr. Wurley understood the game far better
than his guest, and could give him advice as to what side to put
on and how to play for cannons. This he did in a patronizing way,
but his hand was unsteady and his nerve bad. Tom's good eye and
steady hand, and the practice he had had at the St. Ambrose
pool-table, gave him considerable advantage in the hazards. And
so they played on, Mr. Wurley condescending to bet only
half-a-crown a game, at first giving ten points, and then five,
at which latter odds Tom managed to be two games ahead when the
butler announced lunch, at two o'clock.

"I think I must order my horse," said Tom, putting on his coat.

"No, curse it, you must give me my revenge. I'm always five
points better after lunch, and after dinner I could give you
fifteen points. Why shouldn't you stop and dine and sleep? I
expect some men to dinner."

"Thank you, I must get home to-day."

"I should like you to taste my mutton; I never kill it five years
old. You don't get that every day."

Tom, however, was proof against the mutton; but consented to stay
till towards the hour when the other guests were expected,
finding that his host had a decided objection to be left alone.
So after lunch, at which Mr. Wurley drank the better part of a
bottle of old sherry to steady his nerves, they returned again to
billiards and Hudson's regalias.

They played on for another hour; and, though Mr. Wurley's hand
was certainly steadier, the luck remained with Tom. He was now
getting rather tired of playing,