PROGRESSIVE BRIDGE
There were twelve tables numbered A, B, C, up to—well, twelve of them, and I started at E, because my name is Ernest. Our host arranged us and, of course, he may have had quite another scheme in his mind. If so, it was an extraordinary coincidence that my partner's name was Ethel. She herself swore it was Millicent, but I doubt if one can trust a woman in these matters. She looked just like an Ethel. I had never seen her before, I shall never see her again, but she will always be Ethel to me.
There is only one rule at progressive bridge, and that is, if you lose you go to the next table, and if you win you stay where you are. In any case you get a fresh partner each time. That being so, it seemed hardly worth while to ask Ethel what she discarded from. As it happened, though, she began it.
"I discard from strength," she said.
"So do I," I agreed gladly. We already had a lot in common. "Great strength returns the penny," I added.
"What's that?"
"Moderate strength rings the bell. It's a sort of formula I say to myself, and brings luck. May I play to hearts?"
Ethel discarded a small heart on the first round of clubs, and a small club on the first round of hearts. After which, systematically and together, we discarded from great weakness. What with the revoke and other things they scored hundreds and thousands that game.
"You know, where providence goes wrong," I said, "is in over-estimating our skill. Providence thinks too highly of us. It thinks that if it gives us a knave and two tens between us we can get a grand slam."
"Yes; and I think—I think, perhaps, that just the least little bit it underrates Dorothy's abilities."
"Indeed?" I said. Dorothy was the person who had just taken two hundred and ninety-eight off us.
"Yes. You see Dorothy has played before, and I don't think providence knew."
"It rather looks like that."
"Mind," said Ethel graciously, "I don't blame providence for not knowing."
Dorothy laughed, and cut for me. I dealt myself three aces, and went no trumps. To my surprise Dorothy's partner doubled, and led the ace of hearts.
"One moment," I said, and I took it up, and looked at the back of it. Then I looked at the back of my own ace of hearts. Then I looked at the front of it again, and swore very softly, and played it.
"I'm very sorry," I apologised at the end of the game. "I had a wolf in sheep's clothing, an ass in a lion's skin. You saw me play the three of hearts. Well, do you know—it's very sad—he actually pretended to be the ace. Hid his head behind one card, and his feet behind another, and only—well, I thought it was the ace."
At the end of the round Ethel and I moved on.
"Good-bye," I said to Dorothy, "I like watching you play. If you wait here I shall be round again soon."
My next partner was called Aggie. Ethel addressed her as Mary, but she was much too lively for Mary. I had never seen her before, I shall never see her again, but she will always be Aggie to me.
She began at once:
"I discard from weakness, partner. I like hearts led, I never go spades on my own, I live on tapioca and toadstools, and the consequence was——"
"It's the same with me," I said, "except about tapioca. I don't like tapioca. In fact I always—er—discard from tapioca. Otherwise we agree. It's your deal. Now," I said to Ethel, "we shall see what providence thinks of our comparative merits."
Providence made no mistake. In the whole round my partner and I scored once only. Chicane in spades. I moved on to G. I should never see Ethel again.
"I always play the Canadian discard," said Violet, "and I like spades led."
I need hardly say that Aggie, whom Ethel called Mary, spoke of Violet as Diana. But she looked much more like Violet, and she will always be Violet to me. I had never seen her before though, and I shall never see her again.
"So do I," I said. "Do you know Canada at all? I always wish I had been there."
"I go a good deal to Switzerland," said Violet. "Are you fond of bridge?"
"No, never; that is, I mean, 'Very.' Shall we cut?"
The "Canadian discard" hardly does itself justice under that name. It is no mere discard, but embraces all the finer points of bridge. It leads through weakness, and blocks your partner's long suits, and trumps his tricks; and, though I couldn't discover any recognised system about it, revokes now and then. I, too, from tact or sympathy, or some such motive, played the Canadian discard for all I was worth. We got to H without any difficulty....
J, K and L may be passed by, for nothing happened there. For some reason "I" was left out, or, rather, run into J. I cannot understand the point of this. To every man his table, and I feel convinced that I should have done remarkably well at "I." I had been looking forward to it all the evening. I don't much care about betting, but I am prepared to wager a hundred pounds that I should have got a grand slam at "I."
It was somewhere down in the X's that I met Maud. I had been round I don't know how many times, and was feeling quite giddy. Alice, Elizabeth, Iris, Mabel—they were all forgotten when I came to play with Maud. Hepzibah (on my right) called her Millicent or something like that, but I knew really that her name must be Maud. I had never seen her before, I shall never see her again, but she will always be Maud to me.
"I discard from hearts," I said. "I like my weakest suit led, I have revoked three times this evening, at table G on the right-hand side of the fireplace I played the 'Canadian discard,' and I shall never play it again, at K as you go round the lamp I had four aces and my partner went spades, I've had rotten luck all through, and I'm enjoying myself very much. Shall we be very cautious, or would you like to play a dashing game?"
"Oh, let's dash," said Maud.
I dealt, and went no trumps on two aces. To my great surprise Hepzibah's partner doubled and led the ace of clubs.
"One moment," I said, and I took it up and looked at the back of it. Then I looked at the back of my own ace of clubs. Then I looked at the front of it, and swore very softly, and played it.
"I'm very sorry," I began at the end of the game, "but——"
"Haven't we met before?" said Maud, with a smile.
I looked at her hard. "By Jove! Ethel!" I cried.
"My name's Millicent," said Maud, "and seeing that we met for the first time a few hours ago——"
"Yes, you were my first partner, 'Ethel.'"
"I'm sorry. Who is Ethel?"
"I beg your pardon," I apologised. "But I always call my first partner at progressive bridge Ethel. It's a sort of hobby with me."
"I see," said Maud—I mean Ethel. Well, I suppose I must call her Millicent now. Though I had never seen her before, and shall never see her again, she will always be Millicent to me.