“That depends on Miss Maitland. It is not in my department.”
Instantly four bright eyes were turned piteously on the awful Maitland.
“Oh, aunt,” said Zoe, pleadingly, “do you think there would be any great harm in our—just for once in a way?”
“My dear,” said Miss Maitland, solemnly, “I cannot say that I approve of public gambling in general. But at Homburg the company is select. I have seen a German prince, a Russian prince, and two English countesses, the very e'lite of London society, seated at the same table in the Kursaal. I think, therefore, there can be no harm in your going, under the conduct of older persons—myself, for example, and your brother.”
“Code three,” suggested Vizard—“the chaperonian code.”
“And a very good one, too,” said Zoe. “But, aunt, must we look on, or may we play just a little, little?”
“My dear, there can be no great harm in playing a little, in good company—if you play with your own money.” She must have one dig at Severne.
“I shan't play very deep, then,” said Fanny; “for I have got no money hardly.”
Vizard came to the front, like a man. “No more should I,” said he, “but for Herries & Co. As it is, I am a Croesus, and I shall stand one hundred pounds, which you three ladies must divide; and between you, no doubt, you will break the bank.”
Acclamations greeted this piece of misogyny. When they had subsided, Severne was called on to explain the game, and show the young ladies how to win a fortune with thirty-three pounds six shillings and eight pence.