For the rooms in Grand Street had become inconceivably gloomy.

There were no more little parties there: the last one was given in honor of Mrs.Sligo Moultrie--before her marriage.

The elegant youth of the town gradually fell off from frequenting Abel's rooms, for he always proposed cards, and the stakes were enormous; which was a depressing circumstance to young gentlemen who mainly depended upon the paternal purse.

Such young gentlemen as Zephyr Wetherley, who was for a long time devoted to young Mrs.Mellish Whitloe, and sent her the loveliest fans, and buttons, and little trinkets, which he selected at Marquand's.

But when the year came round the bill was inclosed to Mr.
Wetherley, senior, who, after a short and warm interview with his son Zephyr, inclosed it in turn to Whitloe himself; who smiled, and paid it, and advised his wife to buy her own jewelry in future.
It was not pleasant for young Wetherley, and his friends in a similar situation, to sit down to a night at cards with such a desperate player as Abel Newt.