XI
From the Daffy Club to Limmer’s Hotel in Conduit Street was an inevitable step for any young gentleman interested in the Fancy to take. Here were to be found all the Pets of the Ring, and the Corinthians who patronized them. Bertram went there under the auspices of Mr. Scunthorpe, who was anxious to turn his friend’s thoughts away from more dangerous haunts. He had begun to acquire acquaintances in London, and was thus in the proud position of exchanging greetings with several of the men present. He and Mr. Scunthorpe sat down in one of the boxes, and Mr. Scunthorpe painstakingly pointed out to him all the notabilities he could see, including a very down-the-road looking man who, he whispered, could be trusted to tip a man the office what to back in any race. He then excused himself, and bore down upon this knowledgeable person, and became absorbed in conversation with him. While he was thus engaged, Bertram saw Mr. Beaumaris stroll in with a party of friends, but as he had by this time fully grasped the exalted position occupied by the Nonpareil he was flattered beyond measure when, after raising his glass and regarding him through it for a moment, Mr. Beaumaris walked across the sanded floor, and sat down at his table, saying with a slight smile: “Did I not meet you in the Park the other day? Mr.—er—Anstey, I believe?”
Bertram acknowledged it, flushing shyly; but when Mr. Beaumaris added casually: “You are related to Miss Tallant, I collect?” he made haste to deny any relationship, adding that Miss Tallant was quite above his touch. Mr. Beaumaris accepted this without comment, and asked him where he was putting up in town. Bertram saw no harm in disclosing his direction, or even in telling Mr. Beaumaris that this was his first visit to the Metropolis.
It was the expressed opinion of Mr. Jack Carnaby that the Nonpareil was a haughty, disagreeable kind of man, but Bertram was unable to trace the least sign of haughtiness, or of reserve, in his manners. Mr. Beaumaris ’s intimates could have informed Mr. Tallant that while no one could be more snubbing, no one, on the other hand, could be—when he chose—more sympathetic. In less than no time, Bertram, forgetting his bashfulness, was confiding far more to his grand new acquaintance than he had the least idea of. Mr. Beaumaris, himself a Melton man, complimented him on his seat of a horse, and any barrier Bertram might have raised between himself and the author of his sister’s predicament crumbled at this touch. He was led on to describe the country over which he hunted, the exact locality of Heythram, and his own impossible ambitions, without having the smallest suspicion that all this information was being skilfully extracted from him. He told Mr. Beaumaris about Smalls, and his hopes of adorning the Home Office, and when Mr. Beaumaris said, with a humorous lift to one eyebrow, that he should not have supposed him to have had parliamentary ambitions, he blurted out his real ambition, ending by saying wistfully: “But it can’t be, of course. Only I would have liked of all things to have been able to havejoined a cavalry regiment!”
“I think you would do very well in a cavalry regiment,” agreed Mr. Beaumaris, rising, as Mr. Scunthorpe came back to the table. “Meanwhile, do not draw the bustle with too much of a vengeance during this visit of yours to London!” He nodded to Mr. Scunthorpe, and walked away, leaving that gentleman to explain to Bertram with the utmost earnestness just how greatly he had been honoured.
But Mr. Beaumaris, quelling the ecstatic advances of his canine admirer, an hour or two later, said: “If you had any real regard for me, Ulysses, you would be greeting me with condolences rather than with these uncalled-for raptures.”
Ulysses, considerably plumper, and with his flying ear more rebellious than ever, and his tail even more tightly curled over his back, stretched worshipfully before the god of his idolatry, and uttered an encouraging bark. After that he bustled to the door of the library, and plainly invited Mr. Beaumaris to enter, and partake of refreshment there. Brough, tenderly relieving his master of his long cloak, and his hat and gloves, remarked that it was wonderful how knowing the little dog was.
“It is wonderful what encouragement he has received from my staff to continue to burden me with his unwanted presence in my house!” retorted Mr. Beaumaris acidly.
Brough, who had dealt with Mr. Beaumaris for many years, permitted himself to give what in a lesser personage would have been a grin, and to say: “Well, sir, if I had known you wanted him chased off, I’m sure I’d have done my best! Not but what he’s so devoted to you that I doubt if he’d have gone, setting aside that it would go to my heart to chase off a dog that handles Alphonse like this one does.”
“If that misbegotten animal has been upsetting Alphonse, I’ll wring his neck!” promised Mr. Beaumaris.