There was, therefore, a very general chuckle of pleasure among the crowd gathered at the Court House—a crowd which included nearly every able-bodied white man in the county—as the news of his discomfiture and of his outbreak of anger over it, was discussed. There were few who would have cared to twit him with it, and if he had himself maintained a discreet and dignified silence concerning the matter, he would have heard little or nothing about it. But he knew that everybody was in fact talking of it, out of his hearing. He interpreted aright the all pervading atmosphere of amused interest, and the fact that every group of men he approached became silent and seemed embarrassed when he joined it. After his aggressive manner, therefore, he refused to remain silent. He thrust the subject upon others’ attention at every turn. He protested, he declaimed, at times he very nearly raved over what he called the outrage. He even went further in some cases and demanded sympathy and acquiescence in his complainings. For the most part he got something quite different. His neighbors were men not accustomed to fear, and while they were politely disposed to refrain from voluntary expressions of opinion on this matter, at least in his presence, they were ready enough with answers unwelcome to him when he demanded their opinions.
“Isn’t it an outrage,” he asked of John Meaux, “that Arthur Brent has undermined me in this way?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Meaux with a drawl which always affected his speech when he was most earnest, “I cannot see it in that light. Dorothy declares that he knew nothing of her intentions, and we all know that Dorothy South never tells anything but the truth. Besides, I don’t see why he isn’t entitled to serve as her guardian if she wants him to do so. He is a man of character and brains, and I happen to know that he has a good head for business.”
“Yes,” snarled Peyton, “I know you’ve been cultivating him—”
“I’ll trouble you to leave me out of your remarks, Mr. Peyton,” interrupted Meaux. “If you don’t you may have a quarrel on your hands.”
“Oh, you know me, Meaux; you know I didn’t mean any harm so far as you are concerned. You know my way—”
“Yes, I know your way, and I don’t like it. In fact I won’t tolerate it.”
“Oh, come now, come now, John, don’t fly off the handle like that. You see I’m not angry with you, but how you can like this interloper—”
“His family is as old in Virginia as your own is,” answered Meaux, “and he is the master of the very oldest plantation in this county. Besides he was born in Virginia and—but never mind that. I’m not counsel for his defence. I only interrupted to tell you that I am accustomed to choose my own friends, and that I fully intend to adhere to that custom.”
In another group Peyton used even less temperate terms than “interloper” in characterizing Arthur, and added: