the
Beargarden hesitated when the proposition was submitted to them with
all its honours and all its responsibilities. Lord Nidderdale declared
from the beginning that he would have nothing to do with it,--pleading
his poverty openly. Beauchamp Beauclerk was of opinion that he himself
did not frequent the club often enough. Mr Lupton professed his
inability as a man of business. Lord Grasslough pleaded his father.
The club from the first had been sure of Dolly Longestaffe's
services;--for were not Dolly's pecuniary affairs now in process of
satisfactory arrangement, and was it not known by all men that his
courage never failed him in regard to money? But even he declined. 'I
have spoken to Squercum,' he said to the Committee, 'and Squercum won't
hear of it. Squercum has made inquiries and he thinks the club very
shaky.' When one of the Committee made a remark as to Mr Squercum which
was not complimentary,--insinuated indeed that Squercum without
injustice might be consigned to the infernal deities Dolly took the
matter up warmly. 'That's all very well for you, Grasslough; but if you
knew the comfort of having a fellow who could keep you straight without
preaching sermons at you you wouldn't despise Squercum. I've tried to
go alone and I find that does not answer. Squercum's my coach, and I
mean to stick pretty close to him.' Then it came to pass that the
triumphant project as to the trustees fell to the ground, although
Squercum himself advised that the difficulty might be lessened if three
gentlemen could be selected who lived well before the world and yet
had nothing to lose. Whereupon Dolly suggested Miles Grendall. But the
committee shook its heads, not thinking it possible that the club
could be re-established on a basis of three Miles Grendalls.

Then dreadful rumours were heard. The Beargarden must surely be
abandoned. 'It is such a pity,' said Nidderdale, 'because there never
has been anything like it.'

'Smoke all over the house!' said Dolly.

'No horrid nonsense about closing,' said Grasslough, 'and no infernal
old fogies wearing out the carpets and paying for nothing.'

'Not a vestige of propriety, or any beastly rules to be kept! That's
what I liked,' said Nidderdale.

'It's an old story,' said Mr Lupton, 'that if you put a man into
Paradise he'll make it too hot to hold him. That's what you've done
here.'

'What we ought to do,' said Dolly, who was pervaded by a sense of his
own good fortune in reg