’I am very sorry to leave such agreeable society, but if I play any more I shall never get to sea. Look at my purse!’ holding it up and shaking it, ‘it is very nearly empty.’
‘Luck will change,’ said Madame Duvet. ‘You shall go partners with me,’ pointing to a large heap of money and counters.
’I should be only too happy if I could bring anything to the bank, said Owen; ‘but I am too proud to be a penniless partner.’
‘You need only bring yourself,’ said Madame Duvet, lowering her voice, and giving such a glance from a pair of fine black eyes as few men could have withstood.
Perhaps Owen would have yielded to it, for he was by no means a hero, had not a sudden vision of Gladys passed before his mind, followed by one of his mother, just as he had seen her when she bade him that last solemn good-night only the Tuesday in that very week. How the vision came he knew not, nor did he pause to ask; but it gave him strength to resist the temptation to begin regular gambling, a vice he had hitherto steadily avoided.
‘No,’ he said, with a merry laugh; ‘I cannot afford to run into debt.’
‘Mortgage those entailed farms of yours,’ said Howel. ’I wouldn’t mind lending you a trifle on them.’
‘And I will lend you five pounds without a mortgage,’ said Netta.
‘Can’t afford to borrow or mortgage,’ laughed Owen. ’Besides it is nearly Sunday morning, and we must all break up directly,’ so he slipped away from his seat, looked on for a few minutes, and when the party were again absorbed in their game, went to bed.
‘Well,’ he thought; ’I am not as particular as I ought to be, I know, myself; but to play cards into Sunday morning! I could not do this. What would my poor mother say of Netta if she knew it? I will have a serious conversation with her to-morrow, when I suppose she will have an hour to spare, and be off on Monday. I almost wish I had never come. That Madame Duvet, too! One cannot help paying her attention, and she is very handsome and agreeable; but even if there were no Gladys, she wouldn’t suit me; and here am I almost making her believe—Pashaw! She don’t care for me. What a vain fellow I am! But, I suppose, as Netta says, they admire my beard. All but Gladys, who won’t even look at it, or me. I wonder what she would think of me in the midst of all these fine people, dressed up in Howel’s London attire! At any rate I shouldn’t be half as worthy of her good opinion as when I carried that unfortunate mash to the Alderney, which caused the rumpus with my father. How beautiful the girl looked, leaning upon that fortunate animal; and what a fool I made of myself on the other side of her! Well, I was never so happy at home before; and I know it isn’t right to leave my father and mother; and I have never done any good all my life; and I, the eldest son, and very nearly thirty years of age! Poor uncle and aunt gave me an education, to very little purpose I fear; and I shall have to answer for the use I have made of it, just as those Sabbath-breakers downstairs will have to answer for profaning this holy day. Half of it is the force of example. Here is Howel leading Netta to destruction, just as Gladys might lead me to—heaven, I verily believe. Rowland used to argue with me about individual responsibility, and I suppose he was in the right of it.’