the most modest lodgings they could find within easy access of the gardens.  Then; very warily and gently, Saint-Cyr unfolded to Pauline his new-born hopes.  She was terribly alarmed at first and sobbed piteously.  ‘It is so wicked to gamble, Georges,’ she said;—­’ no blessing can follow such a plan as yours.  And I dare not tell papa about it.’  ‘It would be wicked, no doubt,’ said Georges, ’to play against one’s friend or one’s neighbor, as they do in clubs and private circles, because in such cases if one is lucky, someone else is beggared, and the money one puts in one’s pocket leaves the other players so much the poorer.  But here it is quite another thing.  We play against a great firm, an administration, whom our individual successes do not affect, and which makes a trade of the whole concern.  Scruples are out of place under such circumstances.  Playing at Monte Carlo hurts nobody but oneself, and is not nearly so reprehensible as the legitimate “business” that goes on daily at the Bourse.’  ‘Still,’ faltered Pauline, `such horrid persons do play, —­such men,—­such women!  It is not respectable.’ `It is not respectable for most people certainly,’ he said, `because other ways of earning are open to them.  The idle come here, the dissolute, the good-for-nothings.  I know all that.  But we are quite differently placed; and have no other means of getting money to live with.  At those tables, Pauline, I shall be working for you as sincerely and honestly as though I were buying up shares or investing in foreign railroads.  It is the name and tradition of the thing that frightens you.  Look it in the face and you will own that it is simply . . . speculation.’ `Georges,’ said Pauline, you know best.  Do as you like, dear; I understand nothing, and you were always clever.’

“So Saint-Cyr had his way, and went to work accordingly, without loss of time, a little shyly at first, not daring to venture on any considerable stake.  So he remained for a week at the roulette tables; because at the rouge et noir one can only play with gold.  The week came to an end and found him neither richer nor poorer.  Then he grew bolder and ventured into the deeper water.  He played on rouge et noir, with luck the first day or two, but after that fortune turned dead against him.  He said nothing of it to Pauline, who came every day into the rooms at intervals to seek him and say a few words, sometimes leading him out for air when he looked weary, or beguiling him away on pretence of her own need for companionship or for a walk.  No doubt the poor girl suffered much; anxiety, loneliness, and a lingering shame which she could not suppress, paled her cheeks, and made her thin and careworn.  She dared not ask how things were going, but her husband’s silence and the increased sickliness of his aspect set her heart beating heavily with dread.  Alone in her room she must have wept much during all this sad time, for my friend Dr S. says that when she made her first call upon his services he noted the signs of tears upon her face, and taxed her with the fact, getting from her the reply that she ‘often cried.’