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Updated: June 22, 2025
Gilly Jillingham in the days of his apogee had been the spoiled favourite of more than one titled dame; his success must have been great, to measure it by the envy and hatred he evoked among his fellowmen even when in the cold shade there were duchesses who fought for him still; and now, when once more in full blossom, all his fair friends were ready to pet him as of old.
Miss Fanshawe could hardly escape scot-free from her associations, nor was it to her advantage that rumour had bracketed her name with that of a successful but not popular man of fashion. There had been a talk of marriage, but he had next to nothing; no more had she. "We must have an end to all that," said Lady Calverly decisively. "You must promise me to forget Mr. Jillingham for good and all."
The buzz of the ball-room soon caught up the ugly scandal, and tossed it wildly from lip to lip. "Mr. Jillingham caught cheating at cards!" Everyone said, of course, they had suspected it all along; now every one knew it as a fact, except those most nearly concerned. To them it came last. To Phillipa, whose heart it stabbed as with a knife, cut through and through; then to Mrs.
He was trying now perhaps to make at one coup sufficient to silence for a further space his enemy's tongue; the bets upon the odd trick alone amounted to a thousand or more. But he was too late. His hour had come. Suddenly Lord Camberwell spoke in a loud peremptory voice: "Stop! Mr. Jillingham is cheating. He does it in the deal. I have watched him now for three rounds."
Phillipa sat alone in Lady Gayfeather's drawing-room, when Mr. Jillingham was announced. "What does this mean?" she asked. "I'm broke, simply." "You don't look much like it." To say the truth, he did not; he never did. He had had his ups and downs; but if he was down he hid away in outer darkness; if you saw him at all, he was floating like a jaunty cork on the very top of the wave.
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