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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.
Riddel would have nothing to do with you was because she thought somebody else might make a similar offer." "That's what I thought," said Halibut, simply; "but you see now that you have so unaccountably so far as Mrs. Riddel is concerned dropped out of the running, perhaps, if I am gently persistent, she'll take me." The Major rose and glared at him.
Riddel is waiting for you I may just give her a hint of the hopelessness of it." "You're a perfect Mephistopheles, sir!" bawled the indignant Major. Halibut bowed. "Strategy, my dear Brill," he said, smiling; "strategy. Now why waste your time? Why not make some other woman happy? Why not try her companion, Miss Philpotts? I'm sure any little assistance "
The Major agreed with her, and with a strong-effort regained his composure. "I was just going to turn back," he said, untruthfully; "may I walk with you?" "I am not going far," was the reply. With soldierly courage the Major took this as permission; with feminine precision Mrs. Riddel walked about fifty yards and then stopped.
From the outset, it was a marriage that had no root in nature; and we find him, ere long, lyrically regretting Highland Mary, renewing correspondence with Clarinda in the warmest language, on doubtful terms with Mrs. Riddel, and on terms unfortunately beyond any question with Anne Park. Alas! this was not the only ill circumstance in his future.
Riddel, with a faint scream which was a perfect revelation to the companion, snatched her hand away. "I meant my hand of cards," she said, breathlessly. "Really, Brill, really," said Halibut, stepping forward fussily. "Oh!" said the Major, blankly; "cards!" "That's what I meant, of course," said Mrs. Riddel, recovering herself with a laugh.
Riddel is waiting for you I may just give her a hint of the hopelessness of it." "You're a perfect Mephistopheles, sir!" bawled the indignant Major. Halibut bowed. "Strategy, my dear Brill," he said, smiling; "strategy. Now why waste your time? Why not make some other woman happy? Why not try her companion, Miss Philpotts? I'm sure any little assistance "
From the outset, it was a marriage that had no root in nature; and we find him, ere long, lyrically regretting Highland Mary, renewing correspondence with Clarinda in the warmest language, on doubtful terms with Mrs. Riddel, and on terms unfortunately beyond any question with Anne Park. Alas! this was not the only ill circumstance in his future.
Riddel, Robert Ainslie, and Robert Graham, afford valuable lights and shades to the outline, and with numerous others, help to a touch here, and fill-in there, of poet and poems. There are suspicions, it is true, of "the Genteel Letter-Writer," with scraps and words from "the Manual of French Quotations," and, in the love-letters, some hollow mouthings.
Riddel, with a faint scream which was a perfect revelation to the companion, snatched her hand away. "I meant my hand of cards," she said, breathlessly. "Really, Brill, really," said Halibut, stepping forward fussily. "Oh!" said the Major, blankly; "cards!" "That's what I meant, of course," said Mrs. Riddel, recovering herself with a laugh.
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