That a dislike to clubs is strongly rooted in the female breast is not a mere13 aphorism14 of the comic writer, but is a serious fact. This feeling would be much mitigated15, if not entirely16 eradicated17, one would think, if women could only know the real arcana of those much-loathed establishments. Life wants something more than good entrées and wine, easy-chairs, big waiters, and a place to smoke in: it wants companionship and geniality--two qualities which are very rare in the club-world. You scowl18 at the man at the next table, and he scowls19 at you in return; the man who wants the magazine retained by your elbow growls20 out something, and you, raising your arm, growl21 in reply. In the smoking-room there is indeed an attempt at conversation, which is confined to maligning22 human nature in general, and the acquaintance of the talkers in particular; and as each man leaves the room his character is wrested24 from him at the door, and torn to shreds25 by those who remain.
It was its very difference from all these that made the Maecenas so pleasant. Everybody liked everybody else, and nobody objected to anybody. It was not too pleasant to hear little Mr. Tocsin, Q.C., shrieking26 some legal question across the coffee-room to a brother barrister; to have your mackerel breathed over by Tom O'Blather, as he narrated27 to you a Foreign-Office scandal, in which you had not the smallest interest; to have to listen to Dr. M'Gollop's French jokes told in a broad-Scotch28 accent, or to Tim Dwyer's hunting exploits with his "slash'n meer;" but one bore these things at the M., and bore them patiently. How proud they were of their notable members in those days; not swells29, but men who had distinguished31 themselves by something more than length of whisker and shortness of head--the very "gentlemen eminent in their respective circles" of the prospectus! They were proud, and justly so, of Mr. Justice Ion, whose kindly32 beaming face, bright eye, and short-cropped gray hair would often be seen amongst them; of Smielding and Follett, the two great novelists of the day, each of whom had his band of sworn retainers and worshippers; of Tatterer, the great tragedian, who would leave King Lear's robes and be the delight of the Maecenas smoke-room; of Gilks the marine-painter; of Clobber34, who was so great in cathedral interiors; and Markham, afterwards the great social caricaturist, then just commencing his career as a wood-draughtsman. The very reciprocity of regard was charming for the few swells who at that time cared for membership; they were immensely popular; and amongst them none so popular as Colonel Laurence Alsager, late of the Coldstream Guards.
By the time that Laurence Alsager was gazetted as captain and lieutenant-colonel, he had had quite enough of regimental duty, quite enough of transition from Portman Barracks to Wellington Barracks, from Winchester to Windsor; quite enough of trooping the guard at St. James's and watching over the treasures hidden away in the Bank-cellars; of leaning out of the little window in the old Guards Club in St. James's Street; quite enough of Derby drags and ballet balls, and Ryde pier36 and Cowes regatta, and Scotch moor37 and Norway fishery, and Leamington steeple-chase and Limmer's, and all those things which make up the life of a properly-regulated guardsman. The younger men in the Household Brigade could not understand this "having had quite enough." They thought him the most enviable fellow in the world. They dressed at him, they walked like him, they grew their whiskers as nearly like his as they could (mutton-chop whiskers were then the fashion, and beards and moustaches were only worn by foreign fiddlers and cavalry38 regiments), they bragged39 of him in every possible way, and one of them having heard him spoken of, from the variety of his accomplishments41, as the Admirable Crichton, declared that he was infinitely42 better than Crichton, or any other admiral that had ever been in the sister service. The deux-temps valse had just been imported in those days, and Alsager danced it with a long, quick, swinging step which no one else could accomplish; he played the cornet almost as well as Koenig; while at Windsor he went into training and beat the Hammersmith Flyer, a professional brought down by the envious43 to degrade him, in a half-mile race with twelve flights of hurdles44; he was a splendid amateur actor; and had covered the rough walls of the barrack-room at Windsor with capital caricatures of all his brother officers. He knew all the mysteries of "battalion45 drill" too, and had been adjutant of the regiment35. When, therefore, he threw up his commission and sold out, everybody was utterly46 astonished, and all sorts of rumours47 were at once put into circulation. He had had a quarrel with his governor, old Sir Peregrine Alsager, some said, and left the army to spite him. He was bitten with a theatrical48 mania49, and going to turn actor ("Was he, by G--!" said Ledger50, the light comedian51, hitherto his warmest admirer; "we want none of your imitation mock-turtle on the boards!"); he had got a religious craze, and was going to become a Trappist monk52; he had taken to drinking; he had lost his head, and was with a keeper in a villa53 in St. John's Wood. All these things were said about him by his kind friends; but it is probable that none of them were so near the mark as honest Jock M'Laren, of the Scots Fusiliers, a great gaunt Scotchman, but the very best ferret in the world in certain matters; who said, "Ye may depen' upon it there's a wummin in it. Awlsager's a deevil among the sax; and there's a wummin in it, I'll bet a croon." This was a heavy stake for Jock, and showed that he was in earnest.
Be this as it may, how that Laurence Alsager sold out from her Majesty's regiment of Coldstream Guards, and that he was succeeded by Peregrine Wilks (whose grandfather, par23 parenthèse, kept a ham-and-beef shop in St. Martin's Court), is it not written in the chronicles of the London Gazette? Immediately after the business had been settled, Colonel Alsager left England for the Continent. He was heard of at Munich, at Berlin, at Vienna (where he remained for some considerable time), and at Trieste, where all absolute trace of him was lost, though it was believed he had gone off in an Austrian Lloyds' steamer to the Piraeus, and that he intended travelling through Greece, the Holy Land, and Egypt, before he returned home. These were rumours in which only a very few people interested themselves; society has too much to do to take account of the proceedings54 of its absent members; and after two years had elapsed Laurence Alsager's name was almost forgotten, when, on a dull January morning, two letters from him arrived in Loudon,--one addressed to the steward55 of the Maecenas ordering a good dinner for two for the next Saturday night at six; the other to the Honourable56 George Bertram of the Foreign Office, requesting that distinguished public servant to meet his old friend L. A. at the Maecenas, dine with him, and go with him afterwards to the Parthenium Theatre, where a new piece was announced.
Honest Mr. Turquand, the club steward, by nature a reticent57 man, and one immersed in perpetual calculation as to ways and means, gave his orders to the cook, but said never a word to any one else as to the contents of his letter. George Bertram, known among his colleagues at the Foreign Office as "Blab Bertram," from the fact that he never spoke40 to anybody unless spoken to, and even then seldom answered, was equally silent; so that Colonel Alsager's arrival at the Maecenas was thoroughly58 unexpected by the members. The trimly-shaved old gentlemen at the various tables stared with wonder, not unmixed with horror, at the long black beard which Alsager had grown during his absence. They thought he was some stranger who had entered the sacred precincts by mistake; some even had a horrible suspicion that it might be a newly-elected man, whose beard had never been mentioned to the committee; and it was not until they heard Laurence's clear ringing voice, and saw his eye light up with the old fire, that they recognized their long-absent friend. Then they crowded round him, and wanted to hear all his two-years' adventures and wanderings told in a breath; but he laughingly shook them off, promising59 full particulars at a later period; and went over to a small corner-table, which he had been accustomed to select before he went away, and which Mr. Turquand had retained for him, where he was shortly joined by George Bertram.
It is probable that no man on earth had a greater love for another than had George Bertram for Laurence Alsager. When he saw his old friend seated at the table, his heart leapt within him, and a great knot rose in his throat; but he was a thorough Englishman, so he mastered his feelings, and, as he gripped Laurence's outstretched hand, merely said, "How do?"
"My dear old George," said Laurence heartily60, "what an age since we met! How splendidly well you seem to be! A little stouter61, perhaps, but not aged33 a day. Well, I've a thousand questions to ask, and a thousand things to tell you. What the deuce are you staring at?"
"Beard!" said Mr. Bertram, who had never taken his eyes off Laurence's chin since he sat down opposite to him.
"O, ah, yes!" said Laurence. "That's a relic62 of savage63 life which I shall get rid of in a few days; but I didn't like to have him off suddenly, on account of the change of climate. I suppose it shocks the old gentlemen here; but I can't help it. Well, now, you've got oceans of news to tell me. It's full a twelvemonth since I had letters from England; not a line since I left Jerusalem; and--ah, by Jove! I've never told you how I happened to come in such a hurry. It's horribly absurd and ridiculous, you know; I hadn't the least idea of returning for at least another year. But one sultry evening, far up the Nile, as I was lying back in my kandjia,--boat, you know,--being towed up by three naked chaps, pulling away like grim death, we met another kandjia coming down. In it were two unmistakable Englishmen; fellows in all-round collars and stiff wideawakes, with puggerees put on all the wrong way. They were chattering64 to each other; and I thought, under that burning sky and solemn stillness, and surrounded by all the memorials of the past, they would probably be quoting Herodotus, or Gardner Wilkinson, or, better than all, Eothen; but, just as they passed me, what do you think I heard one of them say to the other? 'No, no, Jack65,' said he, 'you're wrong there: it was Buckstone that played Box!' He did, by Jove! Under the shadow of the Pyramids, and close by the Sphinx, and the vocal66 Memnon, and Cheops and Cephrenes, and all the rest of it, to hear of Buckstone and Box and Cox! You can't tell the singular effect it had on me. I began to feel an awful longing67 for home; what the Germans call Heimweh came upon me at once. I longed to get back once more, and see the clubs and the theatres, and all the old life, which I had fled from so willingly; and I ordered the Arabs to turn the boat round and get me back to Cairo as quickly as possible. When we got to Cairo, I went to Shepherd's, and found the house full of a lot of cadets and fellows going out; and one of them had a Times, and in it I saw the announcement of the new piece at the Parthenium; and, I don't know why,--I fixed68 upon that as a sort of date-mark, and I said, I'll be back in England to see that first night;' and the next day I started for Alexandria. And on board the P.-and-O. boat I made the acquaintance of the post-office courier in charge of the Indian mail, a very good fellow, who, when he found my anxiety to get on, took me with him in his fourgon, brought me through from Marseilles to Calais without an instant's delay; let me come on board the special boat waiting for him, and landed me at London Bridge last night, having got through my journey wonderfully. And I'm in time for the first night at the Parthenium; and--now tell me all your news."
"Blab" Bertram had been dreading69 the command, which he knew involved his talking more in twenty minutes than he was in the habit of doing in a month. He had been delighted to hear Laurence rattling71 on about his own adventures, and fondly hoped that he should avoid any revelations for that night at least. But the dread70 edict had been issued, and George knew his friend too well not to obey. So he said with a sigh, drawing out a small notebook, "Yes, I knew you'd be naturally anxious to hear about people, and what had happened since you've been away; and so, as I'm not much good at telling things, I got Alick Geddes of our office--you know him, Lord M'Mull's brother--to put down some notes, and I'll read them to you."
"That'll do, George," said Laurence, laughing; "like the police, 'from information you have received,' eh? Never mind, so long as I hear it.--Mr. Turquand, they've not finished that bin72 of Thompson and Crofts' 20 during my absence? No. Then bring us a bottle, please. --And now, George, fire away!"
For the purposes of this story it would be needless to recount all the bits of scandal and chit-chat, interesting and amusing to those acquainted with the various actors in the drama, but utterly vapid73 to every one else, which the combined memories of Messrs. Alexander Geddes and George Bertram, clerks in the Foreign Office, and gentlemen going a great deal into all kinds of society, had furbished up and put together for the delectation of Colonel Alsager. It was the old, old story of London life, known to every one, and, mutatis nominibus, narrated of so many people. Tom's marriage, Dick's divorce, and Harry's going to the bad. Jack Considine left the service, and become sheep-farmer in Australia. Little Tim Stratum74, of the Treasury75, son of old Dr. Stratum the geologist76, marrying that big Indian widow woman, and becoming a heavy swell30, with a house in Grosvenor Square. Ned Walters dead,--fit of heart disease, or some infernal thing,--dead, by Jove; and that pretty wife of his, and all those nice little children, gone--God knows where! Lady Cecilia married? Oh, yes; and she and Townshend get on very well, they say; but that Italian chap, Di Varese, with the black beard and the tenor77 voice, always hanging about the house. Gertrude Netherby rapidly becoming an old woman, thin as a whipping-post, by George! and general notion of nose-and-chinniness. Florence Sackville, as lovely and as jolly as ever, was asking after you only last night. These and a hundred other little bits of gossip about men in his old regiment, and women, reputable and disreputable, formerly78 of his acquaintance, of turf matters and club scandals, interspersed79 with such anecdotes80, seasoned with gros sel, as circulate when the ladies have left the dinner-table, did Laurence Alsager listen to; and when George Bertram stopped speaking and shut up his notebook, he found himself warmly complimented on his capital budget of news by his recently-arrived friend.
"You've done admirably, old fellow," said Laurence. "'Pon my oath I don't think there's hardly any one we know that you haven't had something pleasantly unpleasant to say about. Now," taking out his watch, "we must be off to the theatre, and we've just time to smoke a cigarette as we walk down there. You took the two stalls?"
"Well--no," replied George Bertram, hesitating rather suspiciously; "I only took one for you; I--I'm going-that is--I've got a seat in a box."
"George, you old vagabond, you don't mean to say you're going to desert me the first night I come back?"
"Well, I couldn't help it. You see I was engaged to go with these people before you wrote; and--"
"All right; what people are they?"
"The Mitfords."
"Mitfords? Connais pas."
"Oh, yes; you know them fast enough; Oh, I forgot--all since you left; only just happened."
"Look here, George: I've had quite enough of the Sphinx during the last six months, and I don't want any of the enigma81 business. What has only just happened?"
"Mitford--and all that. You'll give me no peace till I tell you. You recollect82 Mitford? with us at Oxford--Brasenose man, not Christ Church."
"Mitford, Mitford! Oh, I recollect; big, fair man, goodish-looking. His father failed and smashed up; didn't he? and our man went into a line regiment. Oh, by Jove, yes! and came to grief about mistaking somebody else's name for his own, and backing a bill with it; didn't he? at Canterbury, or somewhere where he was quartered?"
"Same man. Had to leave service, and came to awful grief. Ran away, and nothing heard of him. His uncle, Sir Percy, and two little boys drowned off Malta, and title came to our man. Couldn't find him anywhere; at last some Jew lawyer was employed, put detectives on, and hunted up Mitford, nearly starved, in some public in Wapping, or somewhere in the East-end. When he heard what a swell he'd become, he had a fit, and they thought he'd die. But he's been all square ever since; acted like a gentleman; went down to the place in Devonshire where his people lived before the smash; married the clergyman's daughter to whom he had been engaged in the old days; and they've just come up to town for the winter."
"Married the clergyman's daughter to whom he had been engaged in the old days, eh? George Bertram, I saw a blush mantle83 on your ingenuous84 cheek, sir, when you alluded85 to the lady. What is she like?"
"Stuff, Laurence! you did nothing of the kind. Lady Mitford is a very delightful86 woman."
"Caramba, Master George! If I were Sir Mitford, and heard you speak of my lady in that earnest manner, I should keep a sharp eye upon you. So you've not improved in that respect."
George Bertram, whose amourettes were of the most innocent description, but to accuse whom of the wildest profligacy87 was a favourite joke with his friends, deeper than ever, and only uttered an indignant "Too bad, too bad!"
"Come along, sir," said Laurence: "I'll sit in the silent solitude88 of the stalls while you are basking89 in beauty in a box."
"But you'll come up and be introduced, Laurence?"
"Not I. thank you; I'll leave the field clear for you."
"But Sir Charles Mitford would be so glad to renew his old acquaintance with you."
"Would he? Then Sir Charles Mitford must reserve that delight for another occasion. I shall be here after the play, and we can have a further talk if you can descend90 to mundane91 matters after your felicity. Now come along." And they strolled out together.
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1
denizens
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| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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prospectus
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| n.计划书；说明书；慕股书 | |
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patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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abbreviated
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| adj. 简短的，省略的 动词abbreviate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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raffish
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| adj.名誉不好的，无赖的，卑鄙的，艳俗的 | |
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permeated
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| 弥漫( permeate的过去式和过去分词 )； 遍布； 渗入； 渗透 | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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aphorism
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| n.格言，警语 | |
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mitigated
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| v.减轻，缓和( mitigate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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eradicated
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| 画着根的 | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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scowls
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| 不悦之色，怒容( scowl的名词复数 ) | |
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growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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maligning
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| vt.污蔑，诽谤（malign的现在分词形式） | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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wrested
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| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
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shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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shrieking
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narrated
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| v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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aged
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clobber
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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bragged
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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hurdles
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| n.障碍( hurdle的名词复数 )；跳栏；（供人或马跳跃的）栏架；跨栏赛 | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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ledger
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| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
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comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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stouter
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| 粗壮的( stout的比较级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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vapid
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| adj.无味的；无生气的 | |
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stratum
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| n.地层，社会阶层 | |
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treasury
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| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
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geologist
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| n.地质学家 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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profligacy
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| n.放荡，不检点，肆意挥霍 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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mundane
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| adj.平凡的；尘世的；宇宙的 | |
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