his uncle was one who would rigidly keep his word.

However, it was something to be out of debt, and one of the handsomest
men of his age; and George Legard, whose rank in the Guards made him a
colonel in the line, left England tolerably contented with the state of
affairs.

Despite the foibles of his youth, George Legard had many high and
generous qualities. Society had done its best to spoil a fine and candid
disposition, with abilities far above mediocrity; but society had only
partially succeeded. Still, unhappily, dissipation had grown a habit
with him; all his talents were of a nature that brought a ready return.
At his age, it was but natural that the praise of _salons_ should retain
all its sweetness.

In addition to those qualities which please the softer sex, Legard was a
good whist player, superb at billiards, famous as a shot, unrivalled
as a horseman,--in fact, an accomplished man, "who did everything so
devilish well!" These accomplishments did not stand him in much stead
in Italy; and, though with reluctance and remorse, he took again to
gambling,--he really _had_ nothing else to do.

In Venice there was, one year, established a society somewhat on the
principle of the _salon_ at Paris. Some rich Venetians belonged to it;
but it was chiefly for the convenience of foreigners,--French, English,
and Austrians. Here there was select gaming in one room, while another
apartment served the purposes of a club. Many who never played belonged
to this society; but still they were not the _habitues_.

Legard played: he won at first, then he lost, then he won again; it was
a pleasant excitement. One night, after winning largely at _roulette_,
he sat down to play _ecarte_ with a Frenchman of high rank. Legard
played well at this, as at all scientific games; he thought he should
make a fortune out of the Frenchman. The game excited much interest; the
crowd gathered round the table; bets ran high; the vanity of Legard,
as well as his interest, was implicated in the conflict. It was soon
evident that the Frenchman played as well as the Englishman. The stakes,
at first tolerably high, were doubled. Legard betted freely. Cards went
against him; he lost much, lost all that he had, lost more than he had,
lost several hundreds, which he promised to pay the next morning. The
table was broken up, the spectators separated. Amongst the latter had
been one Englishman, introduced into the club for the first time that
night. He