“It would depend upon the size of the game,” Croyden responded. “If it were half a cent a point, I should choose the charming partner, but if it were five cents or better, I am inclined to think I should prefer the good player.”
“I’ll remember that,” said Miss Carrington. “As we don’t play, here, for money stakes, you won’t care if your partner isn’t very expert.”
“Not exactly,” he laughed. “The stipulation is that she shall be charming. I should be willing to take you for a partner though you trumped my ace and forgot my lead.”
“Merci, Monsieur,” she answered. “Though you know I should do neither.”
“Ever play poker?” Captain Carrington asked, suddenly.
“Occasionally,” smiled Croyden.
“Good! We’ll go down to the Club, some evening. We old fellows aren’t much on Bridge, but we can handle a pair or three of-a-kind, pretty good. Have some sherry, won’t you?”
“You must not let the Captain beguile you,” interposed Mrs. Carrington. “The men all play 73 poker with us,—it is a heritage of the old days—though the youngsters are breaking away from it.”
“And taking up Bridge!” the Captain ejaculated. “And it is just as well—we have sense enough to stop before we’re broke, but they haven’t.”
“To hear father talk, you would think that the present generation is no earthly good!” smiled Miss Carrington. “Yet I suppose, when he was young, his elders held the same opinion of him.”