ngry
nails may produce--the denizens of the place knew better. So the
rubbers went on with the amount of harmony customary to the place.

But the scene would have been an odd one for a non-playing stranger,
had a non-playing stranger been there to watch it. Every person in
the room was engaged at whist except Mrs. Flounce, who still remained
quiescent behind her tea and cakes. It did not happen that the party
was made up of a number of exact fours. There were two over; two
middle-aged ladies, a maiden and a widow: and they, perhaps more
happy than any of the others, certainly more silent for neither of
them had a partner to scold, were hard at work at double-dummy in a
corner.

It was a sight for a stranger! It is generally thought that a sad
_ennui_ pervades the life of most of those old ladies in England to
whom fate has denied the usual cares and burdens of the world, or
whose cares and burdens are done and gone. But there was no _ennui_
here. No stockjobber on 'Change could go about his exciting work with
more animating eagerness. There were those who scolded, and those who
were scolded. Those who sat silent, being great of mind, and those
who, being weak, could not restrain their notes of triumph or their
notes of woe; but they were all of them as animated and intense as
a tiger springing at its prey. Watch the gleam of joy that lights
up the half-dead, sallow countenance of old Mrs. Shortpointz as she
finds the ace of trumps at the back of her hand, the very last card.
Happy, happy Mrs. Shortpointz! Watch the triumph which illumines even
the painted cheeks and half-hidden wrinkles of Lady Longspade as she
brings in at the end of the hand three winning little clubs, and sees
kings and queens fall impotent at their call. Triumphant, successful
Lady Longspade! Was Napoleon more triumphant, did a brighter glow
of self-satisfied inward power cross his features, when at Ulm he
succeeded in separating poor Mack from all his friends?

Play on ladies. Let us not begrudge you your amusements. We do not
hold with pious Mr. O'Callaghan, that the interchange of a few
sixpences is a grievous sin. At other hours ye are still soft,
charitable, and tender-hearted; tender-hearted as English old ladies
are, and should be. But, dear ladies, would it not be well to
remember the amenities of life--even at the whist-table?

So things went on for an hour or so, and then Miss Baker and Sir
Lionel again found themselves separated from