AT THE BRIDGE TABLE
“Yes, indeed, Mrs. Sevier, I’m going to play at this table. Where do I sit? Here? Perhaps you’d rather have this seat, with your back to the light, don’t you know? Cut for partners? Ace low. Why, isn’t that funny! I always thought the ace was the highest card of all, if you don’t use a joker. And you don’t in Bridge. Do you? No; I haven’t played very much, but I’m quick at catching on. I always say Bridge is for those who are too old or too married to flirt. Oh, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Sevier, of course you’re not either! Well, I know you’ve been married twice, but that isn’t much nowadays. I’m perfectly sure I never shall be married at all. Of course, I’m only nineteen, but I think I look older. No? Well, one can’t tell about one’s looks. Mother says very few sensible men would want to marry me! But I tell her very few would be enough. Now, you needn’t laugh at that, Mr. Chapman, it’s quite true. Are you my partner? No? Oh, I play with Mr. Ritchie, and you play with Mrs. Sevier. Very well, let’s begin.”
“Shall we play Lilies?”
“Play Lilies? Why, Mr. Chapman, I thought we were to play Bridge! I took half a dozen lessons a year ago. I haven’t played since, but I’ve a marvelous memory. Oh, I see, you’re just chaffing me, because my name is Lilly! You mean you’ll play Lilly’s game. Now, you’ll excuse me, won’t you, if I sort my cards face down, on the table? Why, I seem to have five suits! I declare, my hand is a perfect rubbish heap! Oh, Mrs. Sevier, have you joined that new City Beautiful Club? I’m on the Rubbish Committee, and I have to read a paper on the æsthetic decoration of ash cans, or Art in Rubbish. It’s such fun! I love women’s clubs. I’m going to join another. I forget what it’s called, but they want poor, dumb animals to have a vote, or something like that. Well, come on, people, let’s play Bridge. Oh, don’t look like that, Mr. Ritchie! Gay and festive, please! Is it my deal? Well, you just deal for me. I always come out wrong.
“What are my conventions? Really, I haven’t any. I’m the most unconventional person you ever saw. Why, mother says—but speaking of conventions, our Federated Clubs are going to have a stunning convention next week. That’s where I’m going to read my paper. I’ve a screaming new costume—and a hat! Well, if I began to tell you about that hat it would interrupt our game. Wait till I’m Dummy, Mrs. Sevier, and I’ll tell you. I expect these men wouldn’t really care to—Oh, my discard? Yes, indeed—I—why, yes, of course I always discard spades. They count the least, you know.”
“Unless they’re lilies.”
“Oh, Mr. Ritchie! How dear of you! Do you really set such store by my spades? Now, that’s a partner worth having! I love to play Bridge, if I can have my own way. Do you know, of all things, I hate disapproval. I just can’t stand it if people are cross to me!”
“You don’t even avail yourself of a cross-ruff, do you?”
“Oh, Mr. Ritchie, how witty! Did I overlook a chance? That reminds me of a lady in our club, Mrs. Ruff. You see, she hasn’t a very becoming husband—at present—and she always looks so discontented, we call her the Cross Ruff! Yes—yes—I am going to play. I was just thinking.
“My heavens and earth, Mrs. Sevier, don’t look at me like that! Your eyes are perfect sledgehammers! No, I wasn’t peeking into Mr. Chapman’s hand! But I just chanced to catch a glimpse of his Queen of Hearts—Oh, Mr. Chapman, are you going to the Muchmore’s fancy ball? Because, I’m going as Queen of Hearts, and if you wanted to go as King of Hearts—Hal Breston insists he’s going to take that part, but—well, I want to pique him—Yes, yes, Mrs. Sevier, I know it’s my play, I was just thinking. Bridge isn’t a game you can play thoughtlessly—like Tit-tat-toe. You see, the Dummy is on my right hand—don’t you think that phrase has a funny sound? ‘She sat on her hostess’ right hand?’ How could the poor hostess eat? Yes, yes—there, I’ll play my king. Oh, he’s taken it with the ace! Why, I thought that was out long ago! Well, you made me play so fast, I scarcely knew what I was playing. I’m afraid you’ll think I’m flighty, but really I have so many things on my mind, it’s hard to think of only one at a time. Of course, it’s different with you, Mrs. Sevier. Your life is more in a rut—if you know what I mean. Well, being married, you can’t help that. Yes, I know it’s my play—I was just thinking. I guess I’ll play a diamond. I know I’m returning my opponent’s lead, but I have a reason. Now, don’t scold me, Mr. Ritchie; I simply cannot play if people disapprove of what I do. Yes, smile at me like that, it’s ever so much nicer! You seem a little put out, Mrs. Sevier! Are you holding poor hands? Come, come, if these two gentlemen and I are having such a pleasant game, you must enjoy it, too. What did you bid, Mrs. Sevier?”
“I think I shall have to bid adieu.”
“Oh, must you go, really? Too bad! Well, good night, and thank you for such a pleasant time.
“Now, let us play three-hand auction; it’s a splendid game.”