"What should I play, then? I've a nice one here, but I'm afraid it will be taken." "Never mind, third in hand; play your best." "But it's not the best; there are two better than it." "Oh, you mustn't tell your hand," the opposing gentlemen said. "Whist, you know." "I'm sure I never mentioned a card." The play had not proceeded far in this fashion when Miss Gibson was announced to give a reading, and the game had to be stopped while that lady gave a thrilling recitation of the "Life-boat," making great use of her eyes and eyebrows, after the style of Irving. When it was finished there was some doubt as to who was to lead, one saying, "It's me to lead; don't you remember I took your knave, and----" "No, no; that was the trick before. I trumped the last trick." The game finished by M'Cranky having three tricks, and informing his partner that they would have been game if she had not trumped his knave of clubs, which was "the best in the house." But she was quite delighted with the result. After the first game the ladies seemed to think they had had enough of it, and resigned their positions in favour of the gentlemen, whose play, conducted on more scientific principles, was interspersed with violin solos or recitations by Miss Gibson, the latter being of a sufficiently tragic nature to give scope to her facial and vocal expression. One was about a level-crossing,--a fruitful subject for the reciter. There are several recitations on this topic, and they have all the same tragic end: a little girl gathering primroses, which grow so plentifully between the rails, is about to be run over by the down express, when Joe or Jim--both drunkards--rushes down the bank and saves her life at the expense of his own; and there is as much sameness in the treatment as in the subject, the first line being in this style: "Not heerd o' Jim? Well, I'll tell ye, lads." Mr. M'Cranky left the card table rather reluctantly shortly after one o'clock; and though he had a long smoke when he got home, he was first in bed, leaving Mrs. M'Cranky looking at herself in the wardrobe mirror as if preparing to go out. "I wonder when it's coming off," she said, giving expression to her thoughts. "That's just what I'm thinking," said M'Cranky. "How strange, dear, we should think of the same thing; but I don't know how he'll be able to keep a wife." "What are you talking about?" "Mr. Morrison and Miss Gibson. Wasn't it their marriage you were thinking of?" "No; it was your dress. Are they to be married?" "Of course, that was what the party was for." "Who told you?" "Nobody; but any one with half an eye could see it. You men never can see anything." "That was a fearful duffer I had for a partner at whist--lost nearly every game. Who is he?" "He's in a bank in St. Andrew Square--a good position--and lives in a fine house at Murray field." "How do you know?"