never been born. I say it's all humbug; she's a
first-rate player. Why, she once beat me, playing even!'

But even this protest did not hinder Frank King and Edith coming out
triumphant winners; and Madge did not seem at all depressed by her
defeat, though she said apologetically to Mr. Roberts that one could
not play one's best always.

Mr. Tom perceived that this would not do, so he fell back on pool
(penny and sixpenny), so that each should fight for his own hand. He
himself took a ball, but, being strong and also magnanimous, would have
no more than two lives.

Here, however, a strange thing happened. Frank King's ball was yellow,
Madge's green, Mr. Tom's brown. Now, by some mysterious process, that
yellow ball was always in a commanding position near the middle of the
table, while, when Mr. Tom came to play, the green ball was as
invariably under a cushion.

'Well, you are a sniggler, Madge,' said her brother, becoming very
angry. 'You play for not a single thing but the cushion. I didn't
think you cared so much for twopence-halfpenny in coppers.'

'How can I play out when you follow?' said Madge; but even that
flattery of his skill was unavailing.

'Wait a bit,' said he; 'I'll catch you. You can't always sniggle
successfully. Even Roberts himself--I beg your pardon Mr. Roberts, it
was the other Roberts I meant--couldn't always get under the cushion.
Wait a bit.'

There was no doubt that Madge was a most provoking and persistent
sniggler. She would play for nothing, and the consequence was that
Frank King, to his own intense astonishment, found himself possessed of
his original three lives, while everybody else's lives were slowly
dwindling down. She played with such judgment, indeed, that Mr. Tom at
length got seriously angry, and began to hit wildly at the green ball
in the savage hope of fluking it, the inevitable result being that he
ran in himself twice, and departed from the game, and from the room
too, saying he was going to smoke a cigar.

Then these four diverged into various varieties of the game, in all of
which Madge was Frank King's champion and instructress; and he was very
grateful to her, and tried to do his best, though he was chiefly
engaged in thinking that her clear blue-gray eyes were so singularly
like Nan's eyes. Indeed, Madge had now to put forth all her skill, for
he and she were playing partners against the other two, and it was but
little help she got from him.

'I