seat where she had been so signally and so
speedily defeated. It is not often that such a
run of cards on one side occurs; still it does
occasionally happen. No skill of the player can
stand against it.

"I had just as soon it should end as it has,"
she muttered, "as go on longer without one of
us losing." Then, turning to her husband, she
added, " You have won. Never fear. I do not
shirk my debts of honour."

During the whole of the rest of the evening there
were no more single combats at cards. We all
participated in the play. And we had no
quarrelling— not even snaps and snarls delivered in
an under tone. Madame was at times a little
absent. Dupuis occasionally repressed a slight
chuckle; but it was scarcely perceptible. Over
the supper-tray, we talked of the natural beauties
of the neighbourhood; in the course of which,
madame asked my daughter, " Miss Smithson,
have you seen Cape Blanez yet?"

"No," said Margaret; " I should much like to
go there. The sea-side is always pleasant."

"That depends on circumstances," I
interposed. " It is a bleak country and a wild coast.
You may go miles without finding the shelter even
of a tree."

"Which makes it all the more romantic,"
rejoined madame. "There is a charming walk
along the shore, round the foot of the cape,
returning by the top of the cliff. It is many a
year since I have been there. How I should
like to see it again!"

"Oh, please papa, do let us go!" urged
Margaret. " You, madame, Miss Chalker, and
myself, make four, and will fill a carriage. It will
do us all good! Won't it, madame?"

"I — I hope so," she hesitatingly answered.

"Let us fix the day, then," continued
Margaret, with girlish impatience to carry out the
project. " The weather is fine. Shall it be
tomorrow?"

"But," I observed, " it is a question of tide
as well as of sunshine. It ought to be low water
at the time of our arrival. Have you the Calais
tide-table in the house, madame?"

"I was looking at it, at a neighbour's, this very
morning. The tide serves admirably."

"And then there is the matter of provisions.
You will find absolutely nothing to eat there,
and the Blanez air makes most people hungry."

"As to that, we are already provided. A cold
veal-pie, a lobster, a tart, some cheese— all which
are in the house— will be as much as any of us
will want."

The morning was bright and fine, with a fresh
breeze blowing from the south-west. The
carriage had to wait some minutes at the door. The
last person ready to start, who ought to have
been the first, was Madame Dupuis herself. She
came down in unusual splendour, quite unneccesary
for a ramble amongst the cliffs— in her
smartest cap, her handsomest shawl, and her
best silk gown. On our bantering her about it,
and comparing her showy toilette with our own
second-best travelling attire, she gravely replied
that she could not wear them on a more proper
occasion; that she could not tell when she might
put them on again; and that it was useless to
leave good clothes moulding in wardrobes,
perhaps for other people to wear. During the
drive, she made several frivolous pretexts for
stopping, and we reached the coast at Sangatte
(where the submarine telegraph from Dover comes
out) considerably later than I had reckoned upon.

From Sangatte our walk round the cape was
to begin. It was agreed that Miss Chalker, who
could not bear much fatigue, should remain there
at the little inn, and superintend the laying out
of the dinner. She had a newspaper and a book,
and would stroll on the beach while we were
absent. Margaret, Madame Dupuis, and myself,
were to do the Blanez in its entirety, doubling
its foot and climbing over its shoulder.
Margaret was delighted at the prospect; while,
strangely enough, madame, who had expressed
her desire to come, now that she was here showed
herself indifferent, careless, passive, hardly
noticing the objects around her.

We set off (I having to urge upon her that
the day was advancing), proceeding along the
beach towards the south. The cliff, first of clay
and gravel, gradually rose and rose, until it
changed its character to chalk, which still rose
loftier and loftier, its face becoming more and
more vertical. It was a striking and inspiriting
scene. The breeze, which was ahead of us, had
freshened almost to a gale; the voice of the
waves was increasing in louduess. High up the
cliff were tufts of wild cabbage, where no mortal
hand could gather them; while the raven croaked
and the sparrow-hawk screamed from ledges
where their nestlings were secure from every
human invader. From Sangatte, the beach grows
gradually narrower, and our distance from the
breakers had become inconsiderable. We had
now walked more than half the distance to the
turning-point where we were to mount the cliff
and return.

All the while, Madame Dupuis did nothing
but lag and loiter, picking up shells, gathering
seaweed, rearranging her shawl, and taking off
her shoe to shake out the sand which was not
there. We were at the point where the cliff is
highest and the ebb tide strip of shore between
its foot and the breakers the narrowest, when
a broken wave spread itself within a few yards
of our feet.

"Did you notice that, madame?" I exclaimed,
a sudden light breaking in upon me. " The tide
is rising fast! With this wind, it will rise faster
and higher than usual. We are later than we
ought to be, and you were deceived as to the
time of low water."

"Perhaps I might have made a trifling
mistake," she answered, with cold indifference.

"The mistake, madame, is no trifle. Walk a
little quicker, if you please. It is a serious,
possibly a fatal mistake."

"Ah! Really!" she replied, apathetically, as
if the matter were all one to her.