"Oh! willingly," replied the young man. "But we must play on credit, because I have no money in the house; and he who loses shall pay by cheque or note of hand."
"With pleasure," said the baronet.
The two gentlemen began to play; and Egerton lost considerably. He, however, appeared to submit with extraordinary patience and equanimity to his ill-luck, and continued to chatter in a gay and unusually jocular manner.
"Seven's the main. Come, Dunstable, fill your glass: the wine stands with you. By the by, has your rascally steward sent you up your remittances yet? You know you were complaining to me about him the other day."
"No—he is still a defaulter," returned the young nobleman, laughing.
"And likely to continue so, I'm afraid," added Egerton. "But where is that estate of yours, old fellow?"
"Oh! down in the country——"
"Yes—I dare say it is. But where?"
"Why—in Somersetshire, to be sure. I thought you knew that," cried Dunstable, not altogether relishing either the queries themselves or the manner in which they were put.
"That makes seven hundred I owe you, Harborough," said Egerton. "Do pass the wine, Chichester. Five's the main. Let me see—what were we talking about? Oh! I recollect—Dunstable's estate. And so it's in Somersetshire? Beautiful county! What is the name of the estate, my dear fellow?"