"

"Cards on Sunday evening! Dear me, what a revolution! Of course, I'm
not _bigoted_. If Miss Houghton asks me--"

Miss Pinnegar looked solemnly at Alvina.

"Yes, do take a hand, Mr. May," said Alvina.

"Thank you, I will then, if I may. Especially as I see those
tempting piles of pennies and ha'pennies. Who is bank, may I ask? Is
Miss Pinnegar going to play too?"

But Miss Pinnegar had turned her poor, bowed back, and departed.

"I'm afraid she's offended," said Alvina.

"But why? We don't put _her_ soul in danger, do we now? I'm a good
Catholic, you know, I _can't_ do with these provincial little
creeds. Who deals? Do you, Miss Houghton? But I'm afraid we shall
have a rather _dry_ game? What? Isn't that your opinion?"

The other men laughed.

"If Miss Houghton would just _allow_ me to run round and bring
something in. Yes? May I? That would be _so_ much more cheerful.
What is your choice, gentlemen?"

"Beer," said Ciccio, and Geoffrey nodded.

"Beer! Oh really! Extraor'nary! I always take a little whiskey
myself. What kind of beer? Ale?--or bitter? I'm afraid I'd better
bring bottles. Now how can I secrete them? You haven't a small
travelling case, Miss Houghton? Then I shall look as if I'd just
been taking a _journey_. Which I have--to the Sun and back: and if
_that_ isn't far enough, even for Miss Pinnegar and John Wesley,
why, I'm sorry."

Alvina produced the travelling case.

"Excellent!" he said. "Excellent! It will hold half-a-dozen
beautifully. Now--" he fell into a whisper--"hadn't I better sneak
out at the front door, and so escape the clutches of the watch-dog?"

Out he went, on tip-toe, the other two men grinning at him.
Fortunately there were glasses, the best old glasses, in the side
cupboard in the drawing room. But unfortunately, when Mr. May
returned, a corkscrew was in request. So Alvina stole to the
kitchen. Miss Pinnegar sat dumped by the fire, with her spectacles
and her book. She watched like a lynx as Alvina returned. And she
saw the tell-tale corkscrew. So she dumped a little deeper in her
chair.

"There was a sound of revelry by night!" For Mr. May, after a long
depression, was in high feather. They shouted, positively shouted
over their cards, they roared with excitement, expostulation, and
laughter. Miss Pinnegar sat through it all. But at one point she
could bear it no longer.

The drawing-room door opened, and the dumpy, hulked, faded woman in
a black serge dress sto