“You are not going out?” said Ernest, as Charles walked towards the stand in the hall on which were placed the gentlemen’s hats.
“Yes; I’m going to buy that book for Mr. Ewart. I only hope that I may not find it sold.”
“But I thought that you said yesterday that you had not the money for it?”
“Yesterday I had not, but to-day I have. I had then silver in my purse, now I have gold!”
“Have you received anything, then, from our uncle?”
“From him! Oh, no! Do you think that he has a thought to spare from the dissolution of the Parliament, the prospects of the ministry, the progress of the canvass, and all that sort of thing?” said Charles, imitating the pompous manner of Mr. Hope.
“I wish,” said Ernest, “I wish that you would tell me where and how you obtained that money. I need hardly say to you, dear Charles, that it is no mean curiosity that makes me ask.”
“Well, if you will have the truth of it, I won it last night at the card-table, at Lady Fitzwigram’s. There, don’t look so grave; I’ve committed no crime; the money is honestly mine.”
“I cannot but look grave,” replied Fontonore. “Oh, Charles, if you had but seen what I have seen of gambling! It gave me a feeling of pain, when at Holyby, Ann’s poor boys used to play at pitch and toss, and gamble for halfpence; for I beheld in their father how such amusements might end. The love of play, which is the love of gold in one of its most fatal forms, is what first brought Lawless to guilt and ruin. It grew upon him, stronger and stronger, a habit that could not be broken, till I have known him desperately stake his last shilling, with his hungry children around him wanting bread, to gratify this miserable passion; nay, gamble away the very blanket in which his sick little one was wrapped!”
“But I do not lose; I gain.”