the chances on the other side,' he said, with
good-humour. 'The best of Brighton is that there is nothing to catch
and hold the clouds: so, with a fresh southerly wind you may have them
blown away inland, and then you will have breaks of fine weather. And
then the streets dry up quickly in Brighton.'

'But all that means that it's going to be a wet day,' she said, as if
he were responsible.

'With breaks, I hope,' he answered, cheerfully. 'And then, you know,
living at Brighton, you ought to be half a sailor--you shouldn't mind a
shower.'

'Oh, but I do,' she said. 'It's all very well for Nan to get on her
thick boots and her waterproof and go splashing away across ploughed
fields. I wonder what the house would be like if every one went on in
that way, and came home all over mud.'

However, Madge soon repented of her petulance, and was quite
attentively kind to the new guest, even reproving him for not attending
to his dinner, and letting things pass.

Dinner over, Mr. Tom took his mother's seat, and somewhat grandly sent
round the wine. As nobody took any, and as starting subjects of
interest was not Mr. Tom's strong point, he suddenly proposed that they
should go into the billiard-room and send for the girls. This was
acceded to at once.

Now billiards is a game in which a good deal of favour can be shown, in
a more or less open way. Mr. Tom, having no one of sufficient skill to
match himself against, chose to mark, and directed the remaining four
to have a double-handed game. Mr. Roberts immediately declared that
Madge and himself would play Captain King and Miss Edith. This was
assented to in silence, though Madge did not look well pleased, and the
game began.

Very soon Mr. Tom said--

'What's the matter with you, Madge? Are you playing dark? Have you
got money on?'

Frank King followed Madge, and it was most extraordinary how she was
always missing by a hairsbreadth, and leaving balls over pockets.

'What do you mean, Madge?' Mr. Tom protested. 'Why didn't you put the
white ball in and go into baulk?'

'I don't play Whitechapel,' said Madge, proudly.

Frank King and his partner seemed to be getting on very well; somehow,
Madge and the joyous Roberts did not score.

'Look here,' said Mr. Tom, addressing the company at large after she
had missed an easy shot, 'she's only humbugging; she's a first-rate
player; she could give any one of you thirty in a hundred and make you
wish you had