he
proposal of a compromise."

"And if I can show the game in my hand why should I not claim the
stakes?"

"Because the other party may delay the settlement. They may challenge
the cards, accuse you of 'a rook,' put out the lights--anything, in
short, that shall break up the game."

"I see," said Pracontal, gravely; "the lawyer's notion may be better
than I thought it."

A long silence ensued between them; then Longworth, looking at his
watch, exclaimed, "Who'd believe it? It wants only a few minutes to two
o'clock. Good-night."

CHAPTER X. THE DROPPINGS OF A GREAT DIPLOMATIST.

When a man's manner and address are very successful with the
world,--when he possesses that power of captivation which extends to
people of totally different tastes and habits, and is equally at home,
equally at his ease, with young and old, with men of grave pursuits and
men of pleasure,--it is somewhat hard to believe that there must not be
some strong sterling quality in his nature; for we know that the base
metals never bear gilding, and that it is only a waste of gold to cover
them with it.

It would be, therefore, very pleasant to think that if people should
not be altogether as admirable as they were agreeable, yet that
the qualities which made the companionship so delightful should be
indications of deeper and more solid gifts beneath. Yet I am afraid the
theory will not hold. I suspect that there are a considerable number
of people in this world who go through life trading on credit, and who
renew their bills with humanity so gracefully and so cleverly, they are
never found out to be bankrupts till they die.

A very accomplished specimen of this order was Lord Culduff. He was a
man of very ordinary abilities, commonplace in every way, and who had
yet contrived to impress the world with the notion of his capacity. He
did a little of almost everything. He sang a little, played a little on
two or three instruments, talked a little of several languages, and had
smatterings of all games and field-sports, so that, to every seeming,
nothing came amiss to him. Nature had been gracious to him personally,
and he had a voice very soft and low and insinuating.

He was not an impostor, for the simple reason that he believed in
himself. He actually had negotiated his false coinage so long, that he
got to regard it as bullion, and imagined himself to be one of the first
men of his age.

The bad bank-note, which has been circulating