‘He is the best judge of his own affairs,’ replied Mr. Lovett, curtly; and then we started a pleasanter topic, and dropped the one in hand. At the usual hour in the evening, Armand de Nesselrode came. We heard his voice in the _salle_, although we did not see him, as the girls said it was their father’s particular desire that he should not be disturbed after we had risen from the dinner-table, and left him to the enjoyment of his wine and cigar and the conversation of any friend who might look in upon him. But on this evening I felt particularly curious to learn what was going on in the _salle_. I could distinguish the gentlemen’s voices as they laughed and talked with one another; but I wanted to see what they were about. The new-born interest I had conceived in the Baron’s future prospects had much to do with my curiosity; because I thought, until I had some proof that he still practised it, I should never have the audacity to speak to him openly about giving up the amusement that had been his ruin. So by-and-by I yawned, and rising, told Tessie and Ange that the day’s expedition had tired me, and I should go to bed; at which announcement they laughed, and called me lazy, but raised no objection to the plan; and I reached my chamber, without either having offered to accompany me. Madame Marmoret called after me, in her coarse voice, to know if I intended coming down again that evening; but I would not answer her. Madame and I were foes, although there had never been an open rupture between us. I disliked her insolence and familiarity too much to be civil to her; and she hated me because I took no notice of her rudeness. It was ten o’clock as I entered my bedroom. The dear old carriage-clock was ticking away upon the mantelpiece to tell me so. I wrapped myself in a dark waterproof cloak, and throwing the hood over my head, passed through the French windows at the end of the corridor that led out into the garden, from which a door in the wall opened upon the road. For a few moments I lingered at the flowerbeds, picking a blossom here and there, for fear the girls might follow me, and suspect the motive of my absence; but no one came. So, plucking up my courage, I gently opened the garden-door, and crept noiselessly up the wooden steps that led to the _salle_. One window, half hidden by clustering tendrils of vine, abutted on the platform at the head of the steps, and through it the whole of the _salle_ was visible. It was as I had thought and feared. Mr. Lovett and the Baron were seated opposite to each other, with the green-shaded lamp between them, and their hands full of cards. The table was strewn with counters of various colours, and two or three little piles of money stood at my trustee’s elbow. Even as I stood and gazed at them, afraid to breathe lest my presence should be discovered, I saw the Baron lose again, and add another coin to the heap on the other side the table, at which Mr. Lovett laughed, and exclaimed: