“No,” said I; “I don’t play.”
“Don’t you? We’ll give you a lesson, then.”
Now my bringing-up had been peculiar, as the reader knows. In many ways it had been strict, and in many ways lax; but one of the scruples I had always carried about with me was on the subject of gambling.
Consequently I felt particularly uncomfortable at the twin’s offer, and at a loss how to respond to it; and before I could resolve the chance was gone.
“Now then,” said Doubleday, “make up your fours there, but for goodness’ sake don’t let both the patriarchs get at the same table! You with the paper and Crow, and Paddy and I—we’ll have this table, and you other four take the other;” and before I knew where I was I found myself seated at a table, opposite Whipcord, with thirteen cards in my hand.
I did not know what to do. Had my partner been any one but Whipcord, with the straw in his mouth, I do believe I should have made a mild protest. Had Doubleday or Crow been one of our party, I might have screwed up my courage. But Whipcord had impressed me as a particularly knowing and important personage, and I felt quite abashed in his presence, and would not for anything have him think I considered anything that he did not correct.
“I’m afraid I don’t know the way to play,” said I, apologetically, when the game began.
“You don’t!” said he. “Why, where were you at school? Never mind, you’ll soon get into it.”
This last prophecy was fulfilled. Somehow or other I picked up the game pretty quickly, and earned a great deal of applause from my partner by my play. Indeed, despite my being a new hand, our side won, and the Field-Marshal and Abel had to hand over sixpence after sixpence as the evening went on. The sight of the money renewed my discomforts; it was bad enough, so I felt, to play cards at all, but to play for money was a thing I had always regarded with a sort of horror. Alas! how easy it is, in the company of one’s fancied superiors, to forget one’s own poor scruples!
The game at our table came to rather an abrupt end, brought on by a difference of opinion between the Field-marshal and Mr Whipcord on some point connected with a deal. It was a slight matter, but in the sharp words that ensued my companions came out in a strangely new light. Whipcord, especially, gave vent to language which utterly horrified me, and the Field-Marshal was not backward to reply in a similar strain.