“I am very angry with you, indeed,” she said, severely. The Major apologized again. “For losing,” added the lady, looking straight before her.
Major Brill caught his breath and his knees trembled beneath him. He made a half-hearted attempt to seize her hand, and then remembering his position, sighed deeply and looked straight before him. They walked on in silence.
“I think,” said his companion at last, “that, if you like, you can get back at cribbage what you lost at chess. That is, of course, if you really want to.”
“He wouldn’t play,” said the Major, shaking his head.
“No, but I will,” said Mrs. Riddel, with a smile. “I think I’ve got a plan.”
She blushed charmingly, and then, in modest alarm at her boldness, dropped her voice almost to a whisper. The Major gazed at her in speechless admiration and threw back his head in ecstasy. “Come round to-morrow afternoon,” said Mrs. Riddel, pausing at the end of the lane. “Mr. Halibut shall be there, too, and it shall be done under his very eyes.”
Until that time came the Major sat at home carefully rehearsing his part, and it was with an air of complacent virtue that he met the somewhat astonished gaze of the persistent Halibut next day. It was a bright afternoon, but they sat indoors, and Mrs. Riddel, after an animated description of a game at cribbage with Miss Philpotts the night before, got the cards out and challenged Halibut to a game.
They played two, both of which the diplomatic Halibut lost; then Mrs. Riddel, dismissing him as incompetent, sat drumming on the table with her fingers, and at length challenged the Major. She lost the first game easily, and began the second badly. Finally, after hastily glancing at a new hand, she flung the cards petulantly on the table, face downward.
“Would you like my hand, Major Brill?” she demanded, with a blush.
“Better than anything in the world,” cried the Major, eagerly.