But her enemies within the gate had a strong case against Joseline, and Lady Boxhill voiced the sentiments of her friends when she said-- “Did you ever notice the way that girl sits huddled over the fire on a low stool, as if she were still in her kitchen? What a frightful trial to poor Lottie! She plants her elbows on the table, her hands on her hips, she pushes before people, and in her clumsy haste to be obliging she gets flustered, drops things, falls over footstools, and treads on every one’s toes.” “Yes,” put in Lady Towton, “and asks such odd questions; and I declare her scarlet blushes, are positively indecent.” Alas! Poor Joseline was, in some respects, an Ishmaelite; her hand against her associates, and their hands against her. One afternoon, as Joseline sat by her fire knitting a sock, with Rap, the criminal, luxuriously extended beside her, the door opened quickly, and Tito entered. She looked rather pale and agitated. Without preamble she came up to the hearthrug, spread out her hands before the blaze, and said-- “I’ve had an awful time!” “How? Where? What is the matter?” “I’ve been playing bridge since two o’clock, and my brain is buzzing. My partner was Colonel Wildairs, against Sir Harry and Gussie Tripp. She _is_ a beast; she riles me! So hatefully sharp and on the make. The way she slaps down a good card, with a sort of jerk, is just maddening, even when I _knew_ she had it all the time. She made me lose my temper, and what’s worse--my money. Joe, you will have to lend me thirty pounds?” “Arrah! Is it for card-playing? Go on with ye!” “It’s true. I’ve lost forty pounds.” “The saints preserve us!”--lifting her hands and eyes in protest. “Yes, it’s a fact. I went no trumps, and she redoubled: my partner had nothing, and I was weak in diamonds. She got in with her ace, and made the little slam. Colonel Wildairs was furious; he pays Sir Harry, and I pay _her_; she was so nasty about it, too. She said--‘Forty pounds, dear Tito! You should _never_ double until you are more experienced. It is a shocking sum, but I won’t press you. Pay me next week.’ And of course, I’ll settle up this very night.” “I don’t understand the quarter of what you are saying; only that you are short of money.” “Yes. I’ve only ten pounds. I should hate Tony to think I was a defaulter, and she is so mean, and would talk at the Women’s Clubs, and say awful things of me.” “Oh, would she?” “Yes. She has her knife into most people.” “I’ve not much money left,” said Joseline, “but whatever I have you are welcome to”; and she rose and went to a writing-table. “But my dear, what _have_ you done with it? The other day you said you had a hundred pounds.” “Well, ye see, being near Christmas I sent some over to Father Daly to lay out; they’d take it kinder from him, than me.” “Take what?”