The party met fairly punctually in the hideous hall, furnished with draughts and red velvet. The gloom was intensified by the sound of an emaciated orchestra playing "She was a Miller's Daughter," with a thin reckless airiness that was almost ghostly. "Let's be a regular party," said Felicity, "and keep together, and get that nice chasseur-looking person to show us round." Savile and Dolly preferred to stroll about alone, with a catalogue, and "take the Royal Family in their order." Woodville and Sylvia sat down near the band. The amiable chasseur, who greatly enjoyed his work, and who saw that the living celebrities left our friends rather cold, showed them "The road to ruing," as displayed in six tableaux. "No. 1, Temptation. 'Ere you see the young man being tempted to 'is ruing by cards--and what not." The party gazed at the green table on which were strewn a few cards. "Fancy being able to be ruined by only half a pack of cards!" said Felicity admiringly. "Who," asked Wilton with interest, "is the lady in crimson satin, with pearls as big as oysters and diamonds like broken windows, holding out her hand so cordially to welcome the young man with long hair and an intelligent expression? (Obviously a very excellent model of Arthur Symons, the poet)." "Why, she's the Decoy," said the chasseur, with intense relish. A sinister man with very black hair (probably in collusion with the decoy) was looking on, enjoying the scene. "How symbolic those two champagne-glasses are on the card-table! What is that dark brown liquid in them?" asked Wilton. "Still champagne, I suppose," said Felicity. "Oh dear, yes, ma'am! It ain't been changed. Nothing's been changed." "How sad it all is!" sighed Vera. "It gets better later on," said Bertie consolingly. "No. 3. 'Ere you find 'im ruinged by gambling. Take notice of the evil appearance of 'is accomplice." The young man was now forging ahead for all he was worth (and a great deal more) with a cheque-book and a fountain pen. The sinister friend was leaning over his shoulder as if to jog his elbow. "No. 4. 'Ere you see the sad result of all these goings on," said the chasseur morally, if vaguely. "The pore young man is condemned to several years." "Does he break out again?" asked Wilton. "Oh, lor', yes, sir! Don't you fret! _he_ breaks out again all right. And 'ere you 'ave _Revenge_! A dark resolve 'as taken distinct form in the ruinged man's mind." "Poor man, how long his hair has grown in prison," murmured Felicity sympathetically. "Who has he killed?" "Why, the decoy!" said the chasseur, "and (if you ask me) serve 'er right!" "How helpful all this is," said Bertie Wilton. "I feel really a better man since I've seen it. Seriously, I don't think I shall ever drink champagne of that colour now that we have seen the appalling results. It's a terrible lesson, isn't it, Lady Chetwode?" They left the young man to his fate and followed the showman.