“Well, I can only say,” interrupted Upton, “that when we were in cantonments at Sickmabund, Jack Faris 'of ours' had a heavy stake in a game of piquet with the major, and just as he was going to count his point, he gave a tremendous yell, and jumped up from the table. It was a cobra capella had bitten him in the calf of the leg. Everything was done for him at once, but all in vain; he swelled up to the size of four, and died in about two hours. It was rather hard on old Cox, the major, who had two hundred pounds on it, and a capital hand; and so he made a representation to the mess, showing that he had seven cards to his point, with a quint in hearts; that, taking in the ace of clubs, he should count a quatorze, and, therefore, unquestionably win the game. The thing was clear as day, and so they awarded him the stakes. Cox behaved very handsomely, too; for he said, 'If Faris's widow likes to play the game out, I 'll give her the opportunity when we get back to England, and back myself, two to one.'” “The Chevalier Bayard himself could not have done more,” said Miss Kennyfeck, with admirable gravity. “I must say,” resumed the dragoon, “we thought it handsome, for old Cox was always hard up for money.” “And what is to become of our theatricals, if Mr. Linton should have been so ill-natured as to drown himself?” said Mrs. White, in a most disconsolate tone; for she had already made terrible havoc in her wardrobe to accomplish a Turkish costume. “Such a disappointment as it will be,” sighed Olivia Kennyfeck, who had speculated on a last effort upon Cashel in a Mexican dress, where, certes, superfluity should not be the fault. “You can always make some compensation for the disappointment,” said Lady Kilgoff, “by a fancy ball.” “Oh, delightful! the very thing!” exclaimed several together. “When shall it be, Mr. Cashel?” “I am entirely at your orders,” said he, bowing courteously. “Shall we say Tuesday, then?” “Not Tuesday; we have the race on that morning,” said Frobisher; “and some of us, at least, will be too tired for a ball afterwards.” “Well, Wednesday,--is Wednesday open?” “Wednesday was fixed for a boat excursion to Holy Island,” said Cashel. “You can't have Thursday, then,” exclaimed Lady Janet; “that is the only evening we ever have our rubber. I'll not give you Thursday.” “Friday we are to have some people at dinner,” said Cashel; “and Saturday was to have been some piece of electioneering festivity for Linton's constituents.” “What matter now?” said Mrs. White; “perhaps the poor dear man is in a better place. A very sad thought,” sighed she; “but such things are happening every day.” “Ah, yes, very sad,” responded Meek, who never failed to perform echo to any one's lamentation. “Ah, indeed!” chimed in Aunt Fanny, “cut off like a daisy.” And she wiped her eyes and looked solemn, for she believed she was quoting Scripture.