“Hist!” said Saville; “don’t direct his attention to me until after the odd trick!”
Notwithstanding this coolness when a point was in question, Saville was extremely glad to meet his former pupil. They retired into a corner of the room, and talked over the world. Godolphin hastened to turn the conversation on Lady Erpingham.
“Ah!” said Saville, “I see from your questions, and yet more your tone of voice, that although it is now several years since you met, you still preserve the sentiment—the weakness—Ah!—bah!”
“Pshaw!” said Godolphin; “I owe her revenge, not love. But Erpingham? Does she love him? He is handsome.”
“Erpingham? What—you have not heard——”
“Heard what?”
“Oh, nothing: but, pardon me, they wait for me at the card-table. I should like to stay with you, but you know one must not be selfish; the table would be broken up without me. No virtue without self-sacrifice—eh?”
“But one moment. What is the matter with the Erpinghams? have they quarrelled?”
“Quarrelled?—bah! Quarrelled—no; I dare say she likes him better now than ever she did before.” And Saville limped away to the table.
Godolphin remained for some time abstracted and thoughtful. At length, just as he was going away, Saville, who, having an unplayable hand and a bad partner, had somewhat lost his interest in the game, looked up and beckoned to him.