The Card, a Story of Adventure in the Five TownsBennett, Arnold
General
The Card, a Story of Adventure in the Five Towns
Bennett, Arnold
Adventure stories; City and town life -- Fiction; Staffordshire (England) -- Fiction
The insolence of this defection on the part of the Clutterbucks! How on
earth _could_ people have the face to go to a landlord and say to
him that they meant to desert him in favour of his rival?
Another detail: the secession of nine or ten people from one hotel to
the other meant that the Métropole would decidedly be more populous than
the Beau-Site, and on the point of numbers the emulation was very keen.
"Well," said the Beau-Site, "let 'em go! With their Captain Deverax! We
shall be better without 'em!" And that deadliest of all feuds sprang up--a
rivalry between the guests of rival hotels. The Métropole had issued
a general invitation to a dance, and after the monstrous conduct of the
Clutterbucks the question arose whether the Beau-Site should not boycott
the dance. However, it was settled that the truly effective course would
be to go with critical noses in the air, and emit unfavourable
comparisons with the Beau-Site. The Beau-Site suddenly became perfect in
the esteem of its patrons. Not another word was heard on the subject of
hot water being coated with ice. And the Clutterbucks, with incredible
assurance, slid their luggage off in a sleigh to the Métropole, in the
full light of day, amid the contempt of the faithful.
III
Under the stars the dancing section of the Beau-Site went off in
jingling sleighs over the snow to the ball at the Métropole. The
distance was not great, but it was great enough to show the inadequacy
of furs against twenty degrees of mountain frost, and it was also great
enough to allow the party to come to a general final understanding that
its demeanour must be cold and critical in the gilded halls of the
Métropole. The rumour ran that Captain Deverax had arrived, and every
one agreed that he must be an insufferable booby, except the Countess
Ruhl, who never used her fluent exotic English to say ill of anybody.
The gilded halls of the Métropole certainly were imposing. The hotel was
incontestably larger than the Beau-Site, newer, more richly furnished.
Its occupants, too, had a lordly way with them, trying to others, but
inimitable. Hence the visitors from the Beau-Site, as they moved to and
fro beneath those crystal chandeliers from Tottenham Court Road, had
their work cut out to maintain the mien of haughty indifference. Nellie,
for instance, frankly could not do it. And Denry did not do it very
well. Denry, nevertheless, did score one point over Mrs Clutterbuck's
fussy cousin.
"Captain Deverax has come," said this latter. "He was very late. He'll
be downstairs in a few minutes. We shall get him to lead the cotillon."
"Captain Deverax?" Denry questioned.
"Yes. You've heard us mention him," said the cousin, affronted.
"Possibly," said Denry. "I don't remember."
On hearing this brief colloquy the cohorts of the Beau-Site felt that in
Denry they possessed the making of a champion.
There was a disturbing surprise, however, waiting for Denry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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