At present, he was playing the devoted to Miss Brundage and hence his inclusion in the party. She cared nothing for him, but his money was a thing to be considered--having very little of her own--and she was doing her best to overcome her repugnance sufficiently to place him among the eligibles.
Mattison got through the dinner without any exhibition of ill nature, but, when the women retired, it came promptly to the fore.
The talk had turned on the subject of the Club Horse Show. It was scheduled for the following month, and was quite the event of the Autumn, in both a social and an equine sense. The women showed their gowns and hosiery, the men their horses and equipment, and how appropriately they could rig themselves out--while the general herd stood around the ring gaping and envious.
Presently, there came a momentary lull in the conversation and Mattison remarked:
"I see Royster & Axtell went up to-day. I reckon," with an insinuating laugh, "there will be some entries withdrawn."
"Both--and men who haven't horses, as well," with a sneering glance at Croyden.
"Why, bless me! he's looking at you, Geoffrey!" Hungerford exclaimed.
"I am not responsible for the direction of Mr. Mattison's eyes," Croyden answered with assumed good nature.
"Is it so bad as that?" he queried. "I knew, of course, you were hit, but I hoped it was only for a small amount."
"Shut up, Mattison!" exclaimed Colloden. "If you haven't any appreciation of propriety, you can at least keep quiet."
"Don't you?" said Colloden, quietly, reaching across and grasping him by the collar. "Think again,--_and think quickly_!"
A sickly grin, half of surprise and half of anger, overspread Mattison's face.
"Can't you take a little pleasantry?" he asked.
"We don't like your pleasantries any more than we like you, and that is not at all. Take my advice and mend your tongue." He shook him, much as a terrier does a rat, and jammed him back into his chair. "Now, either be good or go home," he admonished.
Mattison was weak with anger--so angry, indeed, that he was helpless either to stir or to make a sound. The others ignored him--and, when he was a little recovered, he got up and went slowly from the room.
"It wasn't a particularly well bred thing to do," observed Colloden, "but just the same it was mighty pleasant. If it were not for the law, I'd have broken his neck."