At the mention of the name, Dorothy, who had been engaged in conversation with Beatrice, slightly turned her head. Every word that followed, in the distinct, crisp tones of the Countess, fell clearly upon her listening ear. “Do tell us the story,” exclaimed Baroness Maquehaye. “It sounds as if it were likely to be interesting.” “Quite a romance, although, perhaps, slightly sordid,” continued the Countess Brooke carelessly. “Well, it seems that on a particular night the play was very heavy--unusually heavy even for the mess-room of the Tenth. Captain Mortimer had been a fairly good winner during the early part of the season, but later encountered a long spell of ill-luck, which often sets in with those who woo the fickle goddess of chance. He had been losing heavily and in the strong play of that night thought he saw a chance to recoup. A bank was put up and under spirited bidding went into the thousands.” Here the Countess paused, with the dramatic effect of a good _raconteuse_. “Your story is quite interesting,” exclaimed Baroness Maquehaye. “Do go on.” “Oh, yes; do,” added Lady Hadley-Barton, “I love to hear of the wicked doings of those soldiers. In fact, as I told Major Packenham, of the Tenth, the wickeder the soldier the more I seem to worship him.” “I trust he took you--figuratively,” remarked the Countess. “Quite so; quite so,” Lady Hadley-Barton hastened to respond. “Pray proceed,” urged Baroness Maquehaye. “Well,” continued the Countess Brooke, “the bank which had been bid up into the thousands was finally awarded to the highest bidder--Captain Stanley Mortimer.” Dorothy Brandon stirred slightly in her seat and her pink-and-white ear veered slightly around in the direction of the narrator. “The Captain threw down on the table the sum representing the capital of the bank and took his seat in the banker’s chair.” Again the Countess paused, as if seeking to recall the full details of her story. “Yes, yes,” exclaimed Baroness Maquehaye, “and then----?” “I can imagine the scene,” declared Lady Hadley-Barton impulsively; “the green table, the stacks of money, the high players. How I wish I had been there. How much we women miss! I have so often wished I wore trousers. Of course, you will take me figuratively.” “Captain Mortimer took his seat in the banker’s chair,” resumed the Countess, “and as he did so he looked upon those about him. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘luck has been to me lately a sorry jade. Let’s see if she will now mend her ways. If she doesn’t and you succeed in breaking this bank, there’s nothing left to me but to surrender the freedom and the joys of happy bachelorhood, accept the offer which I have of a command in the Imperial Guard, go to Court and--marry an heiress. Now, gentlemen, proceed and do your worst.’” “How delightfully dramatic,” exclaimed Lady Hadley-Barton. “Well, and what happened next?” eagerly inquired Baroness Maquehaye.