"Rose is making the running," he remarked in a maliciously amused whisper. "She asked me before dinner exactly what Mansfeldt is worth. Ah, here you are, Mansfeldt!" he added aloud. "Allow me to present you to Mrs. Milbanke! Mrs. Milbanke, will you show us the way to the card-room? I hear you are the spoiled child of the house!" Clodagh bowed to Mansfeldt; and responding at once to Deerehurst's suggestion, led the way across the hall. The card-room at Tuffnell was the only room in the big, rambling house that had not preserved an air of old-world repose; here alone, the artistic decorator had been allowed to encroach upon the handiwork of time; and the result, although comfortable and even luxurious, was modern and slightly bizarre. An Oriental carpet, a few divans and coffee stools, half a dozen chairs, and three or four baize-covered tables comprised the somewhat conventional furniture; while the walls were covered in fabric of bright scarlet and decorated with a peculiar and extravagant frieze representing the fifty-two cards of the pack. As Clodagh entered, an irrepressible recollection of London--of the clubs--the card-rooms--the smoking-rooms of London--where men and women idle away their lives and their money, rose to her mind, banishing the pictures of country peace that the last twelve hours had conjured. Pausing by one of the tables, she looked back at her three companions. "Let's cut for partners!" she cried quickly, picking up an unused pack of cards. "See! I've cut a ten!" Mrs. Bathurst came languidly forward and raised a portion of the pack. "A three!" she said. "Now Mr. Mansfeldt, and Lord Deerehurst!" She looked with graceful interest towards the men. Deerehurst cut a four; then the millionaire followed with a two. Her face flushed with pleasure. "How strange!" she murmured. "Do you mind having a very stupid partner, Mr. Mansfeldt?" Her large brown eyes rested on the rich man's face, exactly as they had rested upon Deerehurst's in the days at Venice. Observing and comprehending this, by the light of recent knowledge, Clodagh gave a sharp, amused laugh. "I think every one is satisfied, Rose," she said. "Now, about points! Lord Deerehurst, what points?" Deerehurst bowed complacently. "What you like, partner! Our usual forty shillings a hundred?" "Or twenty shillings a hundred?" suggested Mrs. Bathurst with a deprecating smile at Mansfeldt. Again Clodagh laughed. "You are getting very modest, Rose! Do you remember the last time we were opponents at bridge? But I won't tell tales out of school!" Mrs. Bathurst looked annoyed. "Would it be quite wise----?" she asked sharply. But Deerehurst intervened. "Well," he said, "shall we decide on forty-shilling points? Mr. Mansfeldt, do you agree?" Mansfeldt, who was an intensely reserved and silent man, looked up unemotionally. "I am in your hands," he said; and following the example already set by Clodagh and Mrs. Bathurst, he seated himself at the card-table.