eir
lives in blind loyalty or in the gambler's spirit for the race of Kings
that had been discarded for its unworthiness. But the cut of his Mechlin
lace ruffles was more to the Macaroni than his country's future. He made
his jest with the same aplomb at births and weddings and deaths.

Each fresh minute of play found me parted from some heirloom treasured by
Montagus long since dust. In another half hour Montagu Grange was stripped
of timber bare as the Row itself. Once, between games, I strolled uneasily
down the room, and passing the long looking glass scarce recognized the
haggard face that looked out at me. Still I played on, dogged and
wretched, not knowing how to withdraw myself from these elegant dandies
who were used to win or lose a fortune at a sitting with imperturbable
face.

Lord Balmerino gave me a chance. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and said
in his brusque kindly way--

"Enough, lad! You have dropped eight thou' to-night. Let the old family
pictures still hang on the walls."

I looked up, flushed and excited, yet still sane enough to know his advice
was good. In the strong sallow face of Major James Wolfe I read the same
word. I knew the young soldier slightly and liked him with a great
respect, though I could not know that this grave brilliant-eyed young man
was later to become England's greatest soldier and hero. I had even pushed
back my chair to rise from the table when the cool gibing voice of Volney
cut in.

"The eighth wonder of the world; Lord Balmerino in a new role--adviser to
young men of fashion who incline to enjoy life. Are you by any chance
thinking of becoming a ranting preacher, my Lord?"

"I bid him do as I say and not as I have done. To point my case I cite
myself as an evil example of too deep play."

"Indeed, my Lord! Faith, I fancied you had in mind even deeper play for
the future. A vastly interesting game, this of politics. You stake your
head that you can turn a king and zounds! you play the deuce instead."

Balmerino looked at him blackly out of a face cut in frowning marble, but
Volney leaned back carelessly in his chair and his insolent eyes never
flickered.

As I say, I sat swithering 'twixt will and will-not.

"Better come, Kenneth! The luck is against you to-night," urged Balmerino,
his face relaxing as he turned to me.

Major Wolfe said nothing, but his face too invited me.

"Yes, better go back to school and be birched," sneered Volney.

And at that I