"He's made it! Mrs. Bowman, you threw it away; if you'd played hearts, instead——"
"No, no, she couldn't help it. She had to follow suit."
"Of course!"—the "Duchess" caught feebly at the explanation—"I had to follow suit. What a haul! good gracious!"
"That puts you right again, eh, dear boy?"
"'I am once more the great house of Lyons!'" remarked Dolliver, piling up the pennies. "Six, seven, eight! Look at the silver, great Scott! Mrs. Carew, there's the ninepence I owe you."
"'I have paid this woman, and I owe her nothing,'" quoted Carew. "Dolliver, you've ruined me, you beggar! Where's the 'bacca?"
At something to three there was a murmur about its being late, but the loser now was Mrs. Bowman, and as her shillings had drifted into the possession of Mary, the hostess said it really was not late at all.' This disposed of the breaking-up question for half an hour. Then Bowman began to talk of concluding the game after a couple of rounds. When two such arrangements had been made and set at naught, the "Duchess" proposed that they should finish at the next "nap." To "finish at the next nap" was a euphemism for continuing for a good: long while, and the resolution was carried unanimously.
The clock had struck four when the nap was made, and the winner was Mary. She had won more than six shillings, and the "Duchess," who was the poorer by the amount, smiled with sleepy resignation.
"You had the luck after all, Mrs. Carew," laughed Dolliver. "Good-night."
"Yes," she said carelessly; "I've made something between me and the workhouse, anyhow! Good-night."