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578 THE ADVENTURES OF PHILIP
bottle. She takes ever so little, she owns; and reminds him of
days which he must remember, when she had a wine-glass out of
poor pa's tumbler. A bright little kettle is singing on the fire,—
will not Mr. Hunt mix a glass for himself? She takes a bright
beaker from the corner cupboard, which is near her, with her keys
hanging from it.
"Oh—ho! that's where we keep the ginnims, is it ?" says the
graceful Hunt, with a laugh.
" My papa always kept it there," says Caroline meekly. And
whilst her back is turned to fetch a canister from the cupboard, she
knows that the astute Mr. Hunt has taken the opportunity to fill
a good large measure from the square bottle. "Make yourself
welcome," says the Little Sister, in her gay artless way ; " there's
more where that came from!" And Hunt drinks his hostess's
health ; and she bows to him, and smiles, and sips a little from her
own glass; and the little lady looks quite pretty, and rosy, and
bright. Her cheeks are like apples, her figure is trim and graceful,
and always attired in the neatest-fitting gown. By the comfortable
light of the candles on her sparkling tables, you scarce see the silver
lines in her light hair, or the marks which time has made round her
eyes. Hunt gazes on her with admiration.
" Why," says he, "I vow you look younger and prettier than
when—when I saw you first."
"Ah, Mr. Hunt!" cries Mrs. Brandon, with a flush on her
cheek which becomes it, " don't recall that time, or that—that wretch
who served me so cruel !"
" He was a scoundrel, Caroline, to treat as he did such a woman
as you ! The fellow has no principle ; he was a bad one from the
beginning. Why, he ruined me as well as you : got me to play ;
run me into debt by introducing me to his fine companions. I was
a simple young fellow then, and thought it was a fine thing to live
with fellow-commoners and noblemen who drove their tandems and
gave their grand dinners. It was he that led me astray, I tell you.
I might have been Fellow of my college—had a living—married
a good wife—risen to be a bishop, by George !—for I had great
talents, Caroline ; only I was so confounded idle, and fond of the
cards and the bones."
" The bones ?" cries Caroline, with a bewildered look.
"The dice, my dear! 'Seven's the main' was my ruin.
'Seven's the main,' and eleven's the nick to seven. That used to
be the little game!" And he made a graceful gesture with his
empty wine-glass, as though he were tossing a pair of dice on the
table. " The man next to me in lecture is a bishop now, and I
could knock his head off in Greek iambics and Latin hexameters