“No; you begin, dear. We will stand by and wish you success.” “You are a coward,” said Zoe, loftily; and went to the table with more changes of color than veteran lancers betray in charging infantry. It was the _roulette_ table she chose. That seems a law of her sex. The true solution is not so profound as some that have been offered. It is this: _trente et quarante_ is not only unintelligible, but uninteresting. At _roulette_ there is a pictorial object and dramatic incident; the board, the turning of the _moulinet,_ and the swift revolutions of an ivory ball, its lowered speed, its irregular bounds, and its final settlement in one of the many holes, numbered and colored. Here the female understanding sees something it can grasp, and, above all, the female eye catches something pictorial and amusing outside the loss or gain; and so she goes, by her nature, to _roulette,_ which is a greater swindle than the other. Zoe staked five pounds on No. 21, for an excellent reason; she was in her twenty-first year. The ball was so illogical as to go into No. 3, and she lost. She stood by her number and lost again. She lost thirteen times in succession. The fourteenth time the ball rolled into 21, and the croupier handed her thirty-five times her stake, and a lot more for color. Her eye flashed, and her cheek flushed, and I suppose she was tempted to bet more heavily, for she said, “No. That will never happen to me again, I know;” and she rose, the richer by several napoleons, and said, “Now let us go to another.” “Humph!” said Vizard. “What an extraordinary girl! She will give the devil more trouble than most of you. Here's precocious prudence.” Fanny laughed in his face. “C'est la chasse qui recommence,” said she. I ought to explain that when she was in England she did not interlard her discourse with French scraps. She was not so ill-bred. But abroad she had got into a way of it, through being often compelled to speak French. Vizard appreciated the sagacity of the remark, but he did not like the lady any the better for it. He meditated in silence. He remembered that, when they were in the garden. Zoe had hung behind, and interpreted Fanny ill-naturedly; and here was Fanny at the same game, literally backbiting, or back-nibbling, at all events. Said he to himself, “And these two are friends! female friends.” And he nursed his misogyny in silence. They came into a very noble room, the largest of all, with enormous mirrors down to the ground, and a ceiling blazing with gold, and the air glittering with lusters. Two very large tables, and a distinguished company at each, especially at the _trente et quarante._ Before our little party had taken six steps into the room, Zoe stood like a pointer; and Fanny backed. Should these terms seem disrespectful, let Fanny bear the blame. It is her application of the word “chasse” that drew down the simile.