high—win invariably—and the bank is ruined even at a single game.”
The Countess was about to answer, when the Marquis’s entrance put an end to the discussion. “So you are come at last?” said the chevalier. “We have this evening longed exceedingly for your entertaining conversation,” added the Countess; “and this time, more than ever, you have chosen to absent yourself so late, that it seemed you had forgotten us altogether.”—“I had, indeed, some particular business in view,” said the Marquis, “in which I have succeeded to my entire satisfaction. To-morrow, probably not a single pharo bank will exist at Wisbaden. I have gone from house to house, and the result is, that we have not post-horses enough to carry away the outrageous bankers.”—“Cannot you assist us to learn this wonderful art of yours?” said the Countess. “Not easily, Madam,” he replied. “A lucky hand, doubtless, is required, and I can give no other explanation.”—“But, in truth,” said the chevalier, “your hand is so lucky, that, in all my life, I have never heard of any one who could compare with it.”—“At your time of life,” answered the Marquis, “this is no great argu-
