“Since when have you become so squeamish about card-playing, Mr. Linton?”
“I? Not in the least! I 'm only afraid that some of my friends may turn to be so when they hear of my successes. You know what happened to Wycherley when he got that knack of always turning up a king? Some one asked Buxton what was to be done about it. 'Is it certain?' said he. 'Perfectly certain; we have seen him do it a hundred times!' 'Then back him,' said old Ruxton; 'that's my advice to you.'” As he said this he drew a chair towards the table and proceeded to fill out a cup of chocolate. “Where do you get these anchovies, Charley? Burke has got some, but not half the size.”
“They are ordered for the household. Lawson can tell you all about 'em,” said the other, carelessly. “But, I say, what bets did you book on Laplander?”
“Took him against the field for seven hundred even.”
“A bad bet, then,—I call it a very bad bet.”
“So should I, if I did n't know Erebus is dead lame.”
“I've seen a horse run to win with a contracted heel before now,” said Lord Charles, with a most knowing look.
“So have I; but not on stony ground. No, no, you may depend upon it.”
“I don't want to depend upon it,” said the other, snappishly. “I shall not venture five pounds on the race. I remember once something of an implicit reliance on a piece of information of the kind.”
“Well! you know how that happened. I gave Hilyard's valet fifty pounds to get a peep at his master's betting-book, and the fellow told Hilyard, who immediately made up a book express, and let us all in for a smart sum. I am sure I was the heaviest loser in the affair.”