"O, of course you've heard it, I forgot; dear old Lionel belonged to it. Play! n-no, I don't think so. You can if you like, you know, of course. For instance, Lampeter--Lamb Lampeter they call him; he's such a mild-looking party--won two thousand of Westonhanger the night before last at écarté--two thousand pounds, sir, in crisp bank-notes All fair and above board too. They had a corner table at first; but when Westonhanger was dropping his money and began doubling the stakes, Lampeter said, 'All right, my lord; I'm with you as far as you like to go; but when so much money's in question, it perhaps might be advisable to take one of the tables in the middle of the room, where any one can stand round and see the play.' They did, and Westonhanger's estate is worse by two thou'."
"As you say, that does not look at all as if they played there."
"What I meant was that I didn't think dear old Lionel ever dropped much there. I don't know, though; I rather think Gamson had him one night. Wonderful little fellow, Gamson!--tremendously good-looking boy!--temporary extra-clerk at two guineas a-week in the Check and Countercheck Office; hasn't got another regular rap in the world besides his pay, and plays any stakes you like to name. Seems to keep luck in a tube, like you do scent, and squeezes it out whenever he wants it. I am not a playing man myself; but I don't fancy it's very hard to win at the Pelham. These Plungers and fellows up from the Camp, they always will play; and as theyve had a very heavy dinner and a big drink afterwards, it stands to reason that any fellow with a clear head and a knowledge of the game can pick them up at once, without any sharp practice."
"Yes," said Lord Caterham, "it seems a very charming place. I suppose wheelchairs are not admitted? How sorry I am! I should have so enjoyed mixing with the delightful society which you describe, Algy. And what news had Mr. Gamson and the other gentlemen?"
"Tell you what it is, Caterham, old boy, you've got a regular wire-drawing fit on to-day. Let's see; what news had I to tell you?--not from Gamson, of course, or any of those hairy Yahoos from Aldershot, who are always tumbling about the place. O, I know! Dick French has just come up from Denne,--the next place, you know, to Eversfield, your old uncle Ampthill's house; and he says the old boy's frightfully ill--clear case of hooks, you know; and I thought it might be advisable that your people should know, in case any thing might be done towards working the testamentary oracle. The old gentleman used to be very spoony on Lionel, years ago, I think Ive heard him say."
"Well, what then?"
"Gad, you catch a fellow up like the Snapping-Turtle, Caterham. I don't know what then; but I thought if the thing were properly put to him--if there was any body to go down to Eversfield and square it with old Ampthill, he might leave his money--and there's no end of it, I hear--or some of it at least, to poor old Lionel."
"And suppose he did. Do you think, Algy Barford, after what has happened, that Lionel Brakespere could show his face in town? Do you think that a man of Lionel's spirit could face-out the cutting which he'd receive from every one?--and rightly too; I'm not denying that. I only ask you if you think he could do it?"
"My dear old Caterham, you are a perfect child!--coral and bells and blue sash, and all that sort of thing, by Jove! If Lionel came back at this instant, there are very few men who'd remember his escapade, unless he stood in their way; then, I grant you, they would bring it up as unpleasantly as they could. But if he were to appear in society as old Ampthill's heir, there's not a man in his old set that wouldn't welcome him; no, by George, not a woman of his acquaintance that wouldn't try and hook him for self or daughter, as the case might be."
"I'm sorry to hear it," was all Caterham said in reply.