A MINT OF PHRASES IN HIS BRAIN.
Love's Labor's Lost; i.--I.
It was a peculiarity which the St. Filipe shared with most other clubs
the world over, that the doings of its committees in private session
were always known within twenty-four hours and discussed by the knot of
habitues of the house who kept close watch upon its affairs. It did not
long remain a secret therefore, that the Executive Committee had taken
a firm stand in regard to the troublesome matter of introducing
strangers illegally, and that Fenton had been summoned to appear before
them to answer to the charge of introducing Snaffle.
The excitement was intense. Fenton was a man whose affairs always
provoked comment, and while there was much discussion in regard to what
would be done, there was quite as much as to how he would take it. The
men who had been in the card-room on the night in question chanced not
to be on hand to say that Snaffle had appeared alone, and the word of
the servant was accepted as conclusive.
"Fenton's a queer fellow anyway," one man observed reflectively. "He's
a damned arrogant cuss."
"He has not only the courage of his convictions," Ainsworth responded,
"but he has also the courage of his dislikes."
"He will never give up the assumption that he is above all rules," the
first speaker continued. "He feels that he is being bullied if he is
ever asked to submit to a law of any kind."
"The committee are bound to put things through this time. They've been
waiting for a chance to jump on somebody for a long time, and Fenton
put a rod in pickle for himself when he tried to run Rangely in for
secretary last election."
"One thing is certain," Ainsworth said, rising and buttoning his coat;
"Fenton isn't an easy man to tackle, and if we don't have some music
out of this before we are done, I shall be surprised."
There was a general feeling that something unusual would come of this
action on the part of the Executive Committee. Fenton was a man of so
much audacity, so fertile in resource, and so persistent in his
efforts, that while nobody knew what he would do, it was generally
supposed that he would make a fight; and expectation was alive to see
it.
As to Fenton, he was at first completely overwhelmed by the summons
from the committee. Disgrace, reproof,--even examination was a horrible
and unspeakable humiliation, which it seemed to him impossible to bear.
He hated life and was so thoroughly wretched as to be physically almost
prostrated, although his strong will kept him upon his feet still.
As he reflected, however, the hopeful side of the situation presented
itself to his mind. He had been confident that his tracks were so well
hidden that his share in introducing Snaffle into the Club would not be
suspected, unless the guest had himself mentioned it. He made the
Princeton Platinum stock a pretext for calling upon the speculator, and
endeavored to discover whether the latter had spoken, but he learned
nothing. He was not quite ready to ask frankly whether Snaffle had
betrayed him, and short of doing so he could not discover. Still Fenton
told himself that the only thing he had to fear was some hearsay that
might have reached the ears of the Executive Committee, and he trusted
to his cleverness to answer this.
He presented himself at the meeting of the committee with a bold front
and an air of restrained indignation, which became him very well. All
his histrionic instincts were aroused by such an occasion as this. He
delighted to act a part, and the fact that real issues were the stake
of his success, added a zest which he could not have found on the
boards. He spoke to the gentlemen present or replied to their greeting
with a manner of dignity which was effective because it was not in the
least overdone, and then sat down very quietly to await what might be
said.
He had not long to wait. The Secretary of the St. Filipe heartily
disliked Fenton, chiefly because Fenton openly disliked him. He was a
man who was petty enough to take advantage of his office to gratify his
personal spite, and shallow enough not to perceive that he had done so.
His whole fat person quivered with indignant gratification as he saw
Fenton in the _role_ of a culprit, and he bent his look upon the notes
spread out before him because he was aware that his eyes showed more
satisfaction than was by any means decorous.
The meeting partook of that awkward unofficial nature which makes
matters of discipline so hard in a social club. The men present were
Fenton's companions and associates, and the dignity with which their
position invested them was hardly sufficient to put them at their ease.
They heartily wished to be done with the disagreeable business, and
were not without a feeling of personal vexation against the culprit for
forcing upon them anything so unpleasant as sitting in judgment upon
him.
The chairman, Mr. Staggchase, opened the case by saying in an offhand
manner, that they were all very sorry for the turn things had taken,
but that the evil of having strangers introduced into the club had
grown to proportions which made it impossible longer to overlook it,
and that this was especially true of the bringing into the house men
who not only were there in violation of the rules, but who were of a
character which made it more than a violation of good taste to
introduce them into the club at all. He added that he was convinced
that the present case was the result of a misunderstanding, and he
hoped the gentleman who had been asked to meet the committee would
comprehend that he was there rather to assist the government of the
club in maintaining discipline, than for any other reason.
He looked at Fenton and smiled as he concluded, and the artist bowed to
him with a glance of answering friendliness. Thus far all had been
pleasant, so pleasant indeed that the corpulent Secretary had ceased
smiling. The remarks of Mr. Staggchase had been conciliatory and
gracious, and showed so distinct a leaning toward the accused, that the
Secretary felt himself to be personally attacked in this slighting way
of holding charges which he had given. He drew his thin lips together
and cleared his throat in a preparatory cough, rustling his papers as
if to call attention to them.
"If the Secretary is ready," Mr. Staggchase said, "he may read the
memorandum of the matter about which we wished to consult Mr. Fenton."
"The charge against Mr. Fenton," the Secretary responded, with
deliberate insolence, "is that on the evening of March 13th he brought
Mr. Erastus Snaffle into the club house, knowing that that individual
had already been several times in the club within the time specified by
the by-laws, and knowing him to be a man unfit to be introduced into a
gentleman's club at any time."
"I have the honor of Mr. Erastus Snaffle's acquaintance," Fenton
interpolated, in a perfectly cool, self-controlled voice, "in virtue of
having had him presented to me by the Secretary of this club in the
pool-room upstairs."
The members of the committee smiled, but the Secretary flushed with
anger. The statement was literally true, and he could not at the moment
go into the rather lengthy explanation which would have made it evident
that his thus standing sponsor for Mr. Snaffle was entirely the result
of a provoking accident rather than of his choice. He hurried on to
cover the awkward interruption.
"Mr. Fenton further broke a rule of the club in neglecting, or I should
say omitting to register his guest, and his share in the matter might
not have been known had not Mr. Snaffle told the servant at the door
that he came at Mr. Fenton's invitation."
Arthur had settled himself in an attitude of placid attention, secretly
enjoying the clever thrust he had given his adversary. At these last
words he sat upright.
"Mr. Staggchase," he said, turning toward the chairman, and speaking
with sudden gravity, "do I understand that I have been summoned before
this committee in consequence of the report of a servant."
"I think such is the fact, Mr. Fenton," was the reply, "but of course
your simple word will be received as ample exoneration."
"Exoneration!" echoed Fenton, starting to his feet, his face pale with
excitement which easily passed for virtuous indignation. "Do you fancy
I would stoop to exonerate myself from such a charge? Since when has
the testimony of servants been received in a club of gentlemen?"
He had his cue, and he felt perfectly safe in letting himself go. He
was frightened at the possible consequences of the coil in which he had
become involved, since he foresaw easily enough that while his only
course was to carry things through with a high hand, his words had
already bitterly incensed the Secretary and might in the end set the
committee also against him. He experienced a wild delight, however, in
giving vent to his excitement in any form, and this simulation of
burning indignation served to relieve his pent-up nervousness. He did
believe the principle upon which with so much quickness he had hit as
his best defence, and could with all his force sustain it. He looked
about the room in silence a moment, but nobody was quick enough to pin
him down to facts and insist upon his denying or allowing the charge
brought against him. The indisputable correctness of his position that
a servant's testimony could not be taken against a member in a club of
gentlemen confounded them, and before any one thought of the right
thing to say, Fenton continued, with growing indignation,--
"Why I personally should be chosen for insult by this committee I will
not attempt to decide, although the source of the malice is to be
guessed from the manner in which the evidence was brought to their
notice. When the Secretary has a charge to bring against me that a
gentleman would bring, I shall be ready to answer it. A charge like
this it is an insult to expect me to notice."
He walked toward the door, as he finished, and turned to bow as he put
his hand on the latch.
"Oh, come now, Fenton," Mr. Staggchase said confusedly, "don't go off
that way. Of course"--
He hesitated, not knowing how to continue, and another member took up
the word.
"All that is nonsense, of course. If the servant was mistaken, why
can't you say so, and put yourself right with the committee?"
"Because," Fenton answered, throwing up his head, "I prefer retaining
my self-respect even to putting myself right with this or any other
committee. Good morning."
He went out quickly. He felt that this was a good point for an exit,
and he wished to get away lest he should be unable to keep up to the
level of the scene as he had played it. So thoroughly was his whole
attitude consciously theatrical, that he smiled to himself outside the
door as the whimsical reflection crossed his mind that he really
deserved a call before the curtain. Then he remembered how awkward he
should find it to be called back; and with a smile he ran down stairs
to get his hat and coat, and hurried out of the house into the
darkening spring afternoon.
When Fenton had gone, the members of the committee sat looking at each
other in that condition of bewilderment which could easily turn to
either indignation or contrition as the direction might be determined
by the first impulse. Unfortunately for Fenton, it was his enemy the
Secretary who spoke first.
"Heroics are all very well," he sneered, "but they don't change facts.
He's evidently played poker enough to know how to bluff in good shape."
There was a rustle of impatience in the room. The men seemed to be
reminded that a very high tone had been taken with them, and that they
had all come in for a share of the rebuke which Fenton had
administered. They were irritated by the mingling of a secret
concurrence with the artist's position that a member of the club should
not be impeached on the testimony of a servant, and the conviction that
Fenton was really guilty of the charge brought against him, so that it
was contrary to both justice and common sense to allow him to escape on
a mere technicality.
"Fenton is so hot-headed," Mr. Staggchase began; and then he added: "I
can't say that I blame him so very much, though. I don't fancy I should
be very amiable myself if I were brought up on the word of one of the
servants."
"But it was the duty of the servant to inform me," the Secretary
returned doggedly, "and why shouldn't the committee take action on
information which comes to it that way as well as any other. We didn't
set the servant to spy on the members, and I can't for the life of me
follow anything so fine spun as Fenton's theory. He only set it up, in
my opinion, to get himself out of a bad box."
"He might at least have had the grace to deny it, if he could," another
man said. "It leaves us in a devilish awkward fix as it is. We can't
drop the matter, and if he shouldn't be guilty"--
"Oh, he's guilty, fast enough," the Secretary interrupted, his little
green eyes shining under their fat lids. "He's one of the set that have
been playing poker in the club until it's begun to be talked about
outside, and I saw him go out with Snaffle that night myself."
There was some deliberation, some doubting, and some hesitation in
regard to the proper course in such a case. The committee felt that
their own dignity had suffered, that their authority should be
asserted, and their majesty avenged. Mr. Staggchase was the most
lenient in his views of the situation, and even he admitted that
whether Fenton were innocent of the offence with which he was charged
or not, he had at least treated the committee most cavalierly, and
against the ground taken by most of the members, that if Fenton had
been able to deny the charge he would have done so, he could only
reply,--
"I don't think that at all follows. In the first place he wasn't asked.
He is just the man to feel that a summons before this committee is in
itself a pretty severe reprimand, as plenty of men would. He's high
spirited and sensitive as the devil, and there was nothing in what he
said to-day that wasn't compatible to my mind with his being perfectly
innocent. Indeed, I don't believe he has cheek enough to carry it off
so, if he were not sure of his position."
"Oh, as to cheek," retorted the Secretary, venomously, "Arthur Fenton
has enough of that for anything. And, as for that matter, almost any
man will fight when he is cornered."
In the end the Secretary prevailed, and the committee, albeit somewhat
doubtingly, passed a vote of censure upon Fenton. The Secretary was
directed to communicate this fact to the artist, and he took it upon
himself also to include the information in the printed notices of the
monthly meeting which were sent out a few days later, an innovation
which stirred the club to its very depths and became town talk within
twenty-four hours.