"Of course not!" returned Croyden solemnly, "and, if you were, my stupidity quite justified it, I'm sure. If Miss Erskine will only bear with me, I'll try to learn--Bully thing, that rule of eleven!" It was now Croyden's deal and the score, games all--Miss Erskine having made thirty-six on hers, and Dangerfield having added enough to Miss Tilghman's twenty-eight to, also, give them game. "How cleverly you deal the cards," Miss Erskine remarked. "You're particularly nimble in the fingers." "I acquired it dealing faro," Croyden returned, innocently. "Faro!" exclaimed Miss Carrington, choking back a laugh. "What is faro?" "A game about which you should know nothing, my dear," Miss Erskine interposed. "Faro is played only in gambling hells and mining camps." "And in some of the Clubs _in New York_," Croyden added--at which Miss Tilghman's mirth burst out afresh. "That's where I learned to copper the ace or to play it open.--I'll make it no trumps." "I'll double!" said Miss Tilghman. "I'll go back!" "Content." "Somebody will win the rubber, this hand," Miss Erskine platitudinized,--with the way such persons have of announcing a self evident fact--as she spread out her hand. "It is fair support, partner." Croyden nodded. Then proceeded with much apparent thought and deliberation, to play the hand like the veriest tyro. Miss Erskine fidgeted in her seat, gave half smothered exclamations, looked at him appealingly at every misplay. All with no effect. Croyden was wrapped in the game--utterly oblivious to anything but the cards--leading the wrong one, throwing the wrong one, matching pasteboards, that was all. Miss Erskine was frantic. And when, at the last, holding only a thirteener and a fork in Clubs, he led the losing card of the latter, she could endure the agony no longer. "That is five tricks you have lost, Mr. Croyden, to say nothing of the rubber!" she snapped. "I must go, now--a delightful game! thank you, my dear Davila. So much obliged to you all, don't you know. Ah, Captain Carrington, will you see me as far as the front gate?--I won't disturb the game. Davila can take my place." "Yes, I'll take her to the gate!" muttered the Captain aside to Croyden, who was the very picture of contrition. "But if she only were a man! Are you ready, Amelia?" and he bowed her out. "You awful man!" cried Miss Carrington. "How could you do it!" "I think it was lovely--perfectly lovely!" exclaimed Miss Tilghman.--"Oh! that last hand was too funny for words.--If only you could have seen her face, Mr. Croyden." [Illustration: LEADING THE WRONG ONE, THROWING THE WRONG ONE, MATCHING PASTEBOARDS, THAT WAS ALL] "I didn't dare!" laughed he. "One look, and I'd have given the whole thing away." "She never suspected.--I tell you, she is as dense as asphalt," said Miss Carrington. "Come, now we'll have some Bridge." "And I'll try to observe the rule of eleven!" said Croyden.