Solo whist is undoubtedly a fascinating game to those who take part in it, but to an outsider it has not much charm. Celia’s interest soon flagged, and she found herself watching the players rather than the game itself. Most of them were buxom matrons of comely appearance and cheerful manner. Their fingers were covered with rings, which flashed and sparkled as they dexterously manipulated the cards. Celia thought they made too much of a business of the game, for large sums of money changed hands during the course of the evening; and she could not help noticing the evident satisfaction of the winners, and the disagreeable expressions of the losers, although to some of them it seemed a matter of indifference whether they won or lost. A breathless silence reigned whilst each round was being played, only to be followed by a noisy passage-at-arms between two or more of the players as soon as it was over. Mrs. Friedberg was constantly in trouble, for she was so busily engaged in gleaning the latest bits of gossip from her friends, that she was not able to give her undivided attention to the game. On one occasion she revoked, just when her dearest friend Mrs. Solomon had gone a _misere_. The lady resented it, and told her she ought to be more careful, whereupon Mrs. Friedberg’s ire was aroused, and she began to be personal. An unpleasant quarrel seemed imminent, until David Salmon threatened to leave the table if they did not amicably settle the dispute. Celia looked on in silent disapproval. The constant chink of the money seemed to get on her nerves, and she found that the play made her _fiancé_ irritable. She was not sorry when Adeline asked her to sing, and the cards were thrown down for a time. A general move was made to the drawing-room, where a number of young people, led by Dinah Friedberg, were amusing themselves in a somewhat noisy manner. David took Celia’s arm with an air of proud possession. Her fair and delicate loveliness formed a striking contrast to the pronounced features and olive complexions which constituted the predominant type of beauty present. Mike Rosen vociferously sounded the gong--not for supper, but in order to command silence. Then he asked Celia what she was going to sing. “I will tell you what I should like to hear, and that’s ‘Jerusalem,’” he said. “I heard a man play it on the cornet the other day; it was grand. I went at once and bought the music for Adeline.” “He means the ‘Holy City,’” explained his wife. “Mike likes anything with a good swing about it.” She found the music, which happened to be in the right key, and Lottie played the accompaniment. Celia considered the song unsuited to a Jewish audience, but she sang it with appropriate feeling, nevertheless, and no one appeared to realize that the words were quite contrary to Jewish belief. They made her sing the last verse over again, some of them lustily joining in the chorus.