'What!' said she, 'was Lady Oxford ruined by Colonel Montague? I did not think their acquaintance was of so old a standing.'
'Thirty--fifteen,' said Mr. Wogan in an abstraction.
Lady Mary stared.
'I was but marking the game and scoring points to your ladyship,' Wogan said.
Colonel Montague had heard Lady Mary's sally, for he stopped. Lord Sidney Beauclerk had heard it, for he rose as though to mark his disbelief, and handed Lady Oxford to her chair with a sort of air of protection very pretty in the boy. It seemed, indeed, as though even Lady Oxford was touched, for her face was half turned towards Mr. Wogan, and he saw it soften with something like pity and her eyes swam for an instant in tears. It was new, no doubt, for the spider to feel compassion for the fly, but Mr. Wogan was not altogether surprised, for he began to find the fly very much to his own taste. It was a clean-limbed, generous lad, that looked mighty handsome in the bravery of his pink satin coat, and without one foppish affectation from his top-knot to his shoe-buckles.
Mr. Wogan was still holding the pack of cards in his hands.
'You have a mind to play? 'asked Lady Mary.
Wogan looked at the clock. He had only fifteen minutes for his business as lightning conductor. In fifteen minutes the Parson would be here.
'If you will present me to the player I have a mind to play with,' said he, dropping the pack on the table.
'With all my heart,' said she; 'name him.'