“Having obtained the privilege of considering you my Mentor, I cannot do better than avail myself of your valuable taste and experience in the selection of a beverage,” returned Lord Alfred, falling into his companion’s humour with that dangerous facility which was at once his bane and his greatest charm. So Champagne and ice, and biscuits, all first-rate of their kind, were brought and discussed; and during the demolition thereof, one or two intimates of D’Almayne, faultless in mien and manners, lounged up, and were introduced to his lordship, and drank wine dreamily, and talked smart nothings with a sleepy wittiness as of inspired dormice; and otherwise exhibited symptoms of that life-weary, all-to-pieces condition which very young men believe in as the _ne plus ultra_ of modern dandyism; and Lord Alfred’s heart leaped within him as he thought that now he had at last really begun “life,” and was in a fair way to become a man-about-town. Such wonderful beings are we, _ætatis_ nineteen! When a man is thirsty nothing is easier than to drink a bottle of Champagne without knowing it, perhaps even till the next morning; I never heard of the delusion lasting longer. Whether Lord Alfred Courtland drank more or less than a bottle on the occasion in question, history relateth not, but certainly, when he rose and strolled into the billiard-room, he felt considerably exhilarated, and eager to achieve something “fast,” which might tend to impress his incipient “about-townishness” in the minds of his fashionable acquaintances. Thus, hearing the rattle of dice in a further apartment, he, to D’Almayne’s surprise and amusement, declared billiards a bore, and whist “slow,” and “voted” for something with a little more fun in it. So, “Dante-like,” entering the infernal regions, they very soon “knew a bank whereon” much “wild _time_” had been wasted, and an immense crop of wild oats sown;--and off which certain proprietors had reaped many golden sheaves, while the sowers themselves had gained only experience, teaching them how to take care of their money, about the time when their money was all gone, which must have been more improving than consolatory to the “cleaned-out ones.” Then first upon Lord Alfred’s youthful ear fell the command, diabolical in its persuasive eloquence, “_Faites le jeu, messieurs!_” then timidly, and with feelings akin to those of mediæval youths who, in the good old feudal times, signed uncomfortable compacts with the Evil One, which never turned out satisfactorily for them even in this world, did Lord Alfred stake his first guinea, and unfortunately lose it. We say unfortunately, for had he won, and so come, seen, and conquered, he might have listened to the appeals of conscience which just then were striving to make a coward of this neophyte man about town; but, as matters stood, he felt a stern necessity to vindicate the _sang froid_ with which he could support a run of ill luck; and playing