"I said I had lost two hundred florins," replied Ben, with a most lugubrious expression.
"Impossible!"
"I was standing near the table, in the grand gambling hell,—I beg pardon, hall,—watching the play, when I saw a Russian czar, king, grand dook, poly-wog, or something of that sort, win two hundred florins at one fell swoop. Now, thinks I to myself, if I should put down two hundred florins, and win, I should make two hundred florins by the operation. I didn't do it—so I'm two hundred florins out."
Ben dropped his chin, and looked very sad, while Grace and Paul laughed heartily, perhaps more at the "face" the wag made, than at the joke he had perpetrated.
"I hope your losses will always be of this description, Ben," added Paul.
"Probably they will be while each student is allowed only a florin a day for pocket-money," replied Ben. "There is to be a grand concert in the dog-house this evening. Of course we shall go!"
"Certainly."
"Suppose we walk down now."
"If you please; but don't call it a dog-house."
"Well, it is a gambling-hole, and I don't know but it is a libel on the dog to call it so," answered Ben, as they walked towards the Kursaal.