Never mind--do you execute my commission, and take care you name no names--I must save my little Abigail's reputation." They parted, Meiklewham to execute his patron's commission--his patron to bring to the test those hopes, the uncertainty of which he could not disguise from his own sagacity.
Trusting to the continuance of his run of luck, Mowbray resolved to bring affairs to a crisis that same evening.

Every thing seemed in the outset to favour his purpose.

They had dined together in Lord Etherington's apartments--his state of health interfered with the circulation of the bottle, and a drizzly autumnal evening rendered walking disagreeable, even had they gone no farther than the private stable where Lord Etherington's horses were kept, under the care of a groom of superior skill.

Cards were naturally, almost necessarily, resorted to, as the only alternative for helping away the evening, and piquet was, as formerly, chosen for the game.
Lord Etherington seemed at first indolently careless and indifferent about his play, suffering advantages to escape him, of which, in a more attentive state of mind, he could not have failed to avail himself.
Mowbray upbraided him with his inattention, and proposed a deeper stake, in order to interest him in the game.

The young nobleman complied; and in the course of a few hands, the gamesters became both deeply engaged in watching and profiting by the changes of fortune.