Mr Bevan patronised "Brooks'" and the "Reform."
In the deserted smoking-room of "Brooks'" he sat down to write some letters, and here followeth the correspondence of a modern Chesterfield.
"To J. Holdsworth,
Hay Street, Pimlico."Sir,—The thing you sent for my inspection yesterday is no use. I'm not anxious to buy camels. Please do not trouble any more in the matter. I wasted half an hour over this yesterday and my time is valuable if the time of your groom is not.—Yours truly,
"C. M. Bevan."
"To Mrs Neurapath,
Secretary to Neurapath's Home for
Lost and Starving Cats, Bermondsey."Madam,—In answer to your third demand for a contribution to your funds, I write to tell you that it is my fixed rule never to contribute to private charities.—Yours, etc.,
"C. M. Bevan."
"To Messrs Teitz;
Breeches Makers, Oxford Street."Sir,—Please send your foreman to see me in the 'Albany' to-morrow at ten A.M. The breeches don't fit.—Yours, etc.,
"C. M. Bevan."
"To Miss Pamela Pursehouse,
The Roost, Rookhurst, Kent."My Dearest Pam,—Just a line scribbled in a hurry to say I will be down in a few days. I am writing this at 'Brooks''. It's a beautiful morning, but I expect it will be a scorching day, like yesterday, it's always the way with this beastly climate, one is either scorched, or frozen, or drowned. Just as I am writing this, old Sir John Blundell has come into the room, he's the most terrible bore, mad on roses and can't talk of anything else, he's fidgetting about behind me trying to attract my attention, so I have to keep on writing and pretending not to see him. I'm sorry the buff Orpington cock is dead, was he the one who took the first prize? I'll get you another if you let me know where to send. I think there are some buff Orpingtons at Highshot but am not sure, I don't take any interest in hens—only of course in yours. They say hen-farming pays on a big scale, but I don't see where the profit can come in. Thank goodness, that old fool Blundell has just gone out—now I must stop,—With love, ever yours (etc., etc.),
"Charley."
The author of this modern Englishman's love letter, having stamped and deposited his correspondence in the club letter-box, entered the hansom which had been called for him, and proceeded to his solicitor, James Hancock, of the firm of Hancock & Hancock, Southampton Row.
When Bevan was shown in, Mr Hancock was seated at his desk table, writing a letter with a quill pen. He tossed his spectacles up on his forehead and held out his hand.
"I am sorry to have put you to the inconvenience of calling," said he, crossing his legs, and playing with a paper knife, "but the fact is, I have received a communication from the other side, who seem anxious to bring this affair to a conclusion."