He led her into a large, handsome room, hung with crimson. Round the apartment lines of spectators, three or four deep, were standing, and at a very large table in the midst about forty more were seated. The game played here also was lansquenet, for such immense losses had occurred at basset that the King had forbidden the latter game in all rooms but the private boudoirs of the Princesses. "Have we any right here, Philip?" whispered Celia, doubtfully. "Yes," said Philip, coolly. "Any person known to the gentlemen-ushers can enter. Come round a little to the right--there is more room, and you will see better. I will be your directory. That gentleman with the blue coat and the orders on his breast, at the top of the table, is the Duke of Orleans.[24] If the King die while his heir is under age, as is most likely, that man will be Regent of France. He is considered a clever fellow." Celia looked, and saw a man of middle height, and about forty years of age. He had bright eyes, a laughing mouth, a florid complexion, and a thick, flat nose. The hand which held his cards was as small, white, and delicate as that of a woman. "And who are the ladies beside him?" Celia wished to know. "On the right, his cousin, the Grand Duchess of Tuscany,[25] and on the left another cousin,[26] the Princess of Conti. Next to her is her half-sister, the Duke's wife."[27] "I do not quite like the Grand Duchess's face." "She is not considered particularly amiable. One of her sisters[28] was married to the Duke de Guise, which was so marvellous a condescension that the poor man might never eat his dinner without his wife's leave. Every day he stood beside her chair, and presented her dinner-napkin: the cover was laid for her only; and he might not presume to help himself even to a biscuit until Her Royal Highness was graciously pleased to command a plate and chair to be brought for Monsieur de Guise. Then he made a low, grateful bow to his very superior wife, and might sit down and dine." "Is that really true, Philip?" asked Celia, laughing softly. "Perfectly true." Celia turned her attention to the Princess of Conti. She liked to look at her fair, quiet face, with its large, soft brown eyes; and she was wondering what her character was, when suddenly a lady, who had been staking extremely high, rose from her seat, flinging down her cards, cursing and swearing in most voluble French. This was the first time that Celia had heard a woman use such language, and she hid her face, shuddering. "Ruined!" said Philip, coolly. "You had better come away." The ladies and gentlemen at the card-table set up a shrill chorus of laughter. "O Philip, take me home!" sobbed Celia. "I cannot bear this!" She had heard Squire Passmore swear before now, but it was generally when he was excited or angry, and was commonly accompanied by a gentle "Hush, John!" from his wife. Philip led his sister out of the room to the seats in the recess of the corridor window.