CHAPTER VI
MONTY CRISTO
A fortnight later Montgomery Brewster had a new home. In strictobedience to his chief's command, "Nopper" Harrison had leased untilthe September following one of the most expensive apartments to befound in New York City. The rental was $23,000, and the shrewdfinancial representative had saved $1,000 for his employer by payingthe sum in advance. But when he reported this bit of economy to Mr.Brewster he was surprised that it brought forth a frown. "I never saw aman who had less sense about money," muttered "Nopper" to himself."Why, he spends it like a Chicago millionaire trying to get into NewYork society. If it were not for the rest of us he'd be a pauper in sixmonths."
Paul Pettingill, to his own intense surprise and, it must be said,consternation, was engaged to redecorate certain rooms according to aplan suggested by the tenant. The rising young artist, in a greatflurry of excitement, agreed to do the work for $500, and then blushedlike a schoolgirl when he was informed by the practical Brewster thatthe paints and material for one room alone would cost twice as much.
"Petty, you have no more idea of business than a goat," criticisedMontgomery, and Paul lowered his head in humble confession. "That manwho calcimines your studio could figure on a piece of work with moreintelligence than you reveal. I'll pay $2,500. It's only a fair price,and I can't afford anything cheap in this place."
"At this rate you won't be able to afford anything," said Pettingill tohimself.
And so it was that Pettingill and a corps of decorators soon turned therooms into a confusion of scaffoldings and paint buckets, out of whichin the end emerged something very distinguished. No one had everthought Pettingill deficient in ideas, and this was his opportunity.The only drawback was the time limit which Brewster so remorselesslyfixed. Without that he felt that he could have done something splendidin the way of decorative panels--something that would make even theglory of Puvis de Chavannes turn pallid. With it he was obliged to curbhis turbulent ideas, and he decided that a rich simplicity was theproper note. The result was gorgeous, but not too gorgeous,--it haddepth and distinction.
Elated and eager, he assisted Brewster in selecting furniture andhangings for each room, but he did not know that his employer wasmaking conditional purchases of everything. Mr. Brewster had agreementswith all the dealers to the effect that they were to buy everythingback at a fair price, if he desired to give up his establishment withina year. He adhered to this rule in all cases that called for thepurchase outright of substantial necessities. The bump ofcalculativeness in Monty Brewster's head was growing to abnormalproportions.
In retaining his rooms at Mrs. Gray's, he gave the flimsy but patheticexcuse that he wanted a place in which he might find occasional seasonsof peace and quiet. When Mrs. Gray protested against this useless bitof extravagance, his grief was so obviously genuine that her heart wastouched, and there was a deep, fervent joy in her soul. She loved thisfair-faced boy, and tears of happiness came to her eyes when she wasgiven this new proof of his loyalty and devotion. His rooms were keptfor him just as if he had expected to occupy them every day and everynight, notwithstanding the luxurious apartments he was to maintainelsewhere. The Oliver Optic books still lay in the attic, all tatteredand torn, but to Margaret the embodiment of prospective riches,promises of sweet hours to come. She knew Monty well enough to feelthat he would not forget the dark little attic of old for all thesplendors that might come with the new dispensation.
There was no little surprise when he sent out invitations for a largedinner. His grandfather had been dead less than a month, and societywas somewhat scandalized by the plain symptoms of disrespect he wasshowing. No one had expected him to observe a prolonged season ofmourning, but that he should disregard the formalities completely wasrather shocking. Some of the older people, who had not long to live andwho had heirs-apparent, openly denounced his heartlessness. It was notvery gratifying to think of what might be in store for them if allmemories were as short as Brewster's. Old Mrs. Ketchell changed herwill, and two nephews were cut off entirely; a very modest andimpecunious grandson of Joseph Garrity also was to sustain a severechange of fortune in the near future, if the cards spoke correctly.Judge Van Woort, who was not expected to live through the night, gotbetter immediately after hearing some one in the sick-room whisper thatMontgomery Brewster was to give a big dinner. Naturally, theheirs-to-be condemned young Brewster in no uncertain terms.
Nevertheless, the dinner to be given by the grandson of old Edwin PeterBrewster was the talk of the town, and not one of the sixty invitedguests could have been persuaded to miss it. Reports as to itsmagnificence were abroad long before the night set for the dinner. Oneof them had it that it was to cost $3,000 a plate. From that figure thelegendary price receded to a mark as low as $500. Montgomery would havebeen only too glad to pay $3,000 or more, but some mysterious forceconveyed to his mind a perfect portrait of Swearengen Jones in the actof putting down a large black mark against him, and he forbore.
"I wish I knew whether I had to abide by the New York or the Montanastandard of extravagance," Brewster said to himself. "I wonder if heever sees the New York papers."
Late each night the last of the grand old Brewster family went to hisbedroom where, after dismissing his man, he settled down at his desk,with a pencil and a pad of paper. Lighting the candles, which were moreeasily managed, he found, than lamps, and much more costly, hethoughtfully and religiously calculated the expenses for the day."Nopper" Harrison and Elon Gardner had the receipts for all moneysspent, and Joe Bragdon was keeping an official report, but the "chief,"as they called him, could not go to sleep until he was satisfied in hisown mind that he was keeping up the average. For the first two weeks ithad been easy--in fact, he seemed to have quite a comfortable lead inthe race. He had spent almost $100,000 in the fortnight, but herealized that the greater part of it had gone into the yearly and notthe daily expense-account. He kept a "profit and loss" entry in hislittle private ledger, but it was not like any other account of thekind in the world. What the ordinary merchant would have charged to"loss" he jotted down on the "profit" side, and he was continuallylooking for opportunities to swell the total.
Rawles, who had been his grandfather's butler since the day after helanded in New York, came over to the grandson's establishment, greatlyto the wrath and confusion of the latter's Aunt Emmeline. The chef camefrom Paris and his name was Detuit. Ellis, the footman, also found amuch better berth with Monty than he had had in the house on theavenue. Aunt Emmeline never forgave her nephew for these base anddisturbing acts of treachery, as she called them.
One of Monty's most extraordinary financial feats grew out of thepurchase of a $14,000 automobile. He blandly admitted to "Nopper"Harrison and the two secretaries that he intended to use it to practicewith only, and that as soon as he learned how to run an "auto" as itshould be run he expected to buy a good, sensible, durable machine for$7,000.
His staff officers frequently put their heads together to devise waysand means of curbing Monty's reckless extravagance. They were worried.
"He's like a sailor in port," protested Harrison. "Money is no objectif he wants a thing, and--damn it--he seems to want everything he sees."
"It won't last long," Gardner said, reassuringly. "Like his namesake,Monte Cristo, the world is his just now and he wants to enjoy it."
"He wants to get rid of it, it seems to me."
Whenever they reproached Brewster about the matter he disarmed them bysaying, "Now that I've got money I mean to give my friends a good time.Just what you'd do if you were in my place. What's money for, anyway?"
"But this $3,000-a-plate dinner--"
"I'm going to give a dozen of them, and even then I can't pay my justdebts. For years I've been entertained at people's houses and have beentaken cruising on their yachts. They have always been bully to me, andwhat have I ever done for them? Nothing. Now that I can afford it, I amgoing to return some of those favors and square myself. Doesn't itsound reasonable?"
And so pre
parations for Monty's dinner went on. In addition to what hecalled his "efficient corps of gentlemanly aids" he had secured theservices of Mrs. Dan DeMille as "social mentor and utility chaperon."Mrs. DeMille was known in the papers as the leader of the fast youngermarried set. She was one of the cleverest and best-looking young womenin town, and her husband was of those who did not have to be "invitedtoo." Mr. DeMille lived at the club and visited his home. Some one saidthat he was so slow and his wife so fast that when she invited him todinner he usually was two or three days late. Altogether Mrs. DeMillewas a decided acquisition to Brewster's campaign committee. It requiredjust her touch to make his parties fun instead of funny.
It was on October 18th that the dinner was given. With the skill of ageneral Mrs. Dan had seated the guests in such a way that from thebeginning things went off with zest. Colonel Drew took in Mrs.Valentine and his content was assured; Mr. Van Winkle and the beautifulMiss Valentine were side by side, and no one could say he lookedunhappy; Mr. Cromwell went in with Mrs. Savage; and the same delicatetact--in some cases it was almost indelicate--was displayed in thedisposition of other guests.
Somehow they had come with the expectation of being bored. Curiosityprompted them to accept, but it did not prevent the subsequentinevitable lassitude. Socially Monty Brewster had yet to make himselffelt. He and his dinners were something to talk: about, but they wereaccepted hesitatingly, haltingly. People wondered how he had securedthe cooperation of Mrs. Dan, but then Mrs. Dan always did go in for anew toy. To her was inevitably attributed whatever success the dinnerachieved. And it was no small measure. Yet there was nothing startlingabout the affair. Monty had decided to begin conservatively. He did theconventional thing, but he did it well. He added a touch or two ofluxury, the faintest aroma of splendor. Pettingill had designed thecuriously wayward table, with its comfortable atmosphere ofcompanionship, and arranged its decoration of great lavender orchidsand lacy butterfly festoons of white ones touched with yellow. He hadwanted to use dahlias in their many rich shades from pale yellow toorange and deep red, but Monty held out for orchids. It was the artist,too, who had found in a rare and happy moment the massive goldcandelabra--ancient things of a more luxurious age--and theiropalescent shades. Against his advice the service, too, was ofgold,--"rank vulgarity," he called it, with its rich meaninglessornamentation. But here Monty was obdurate. He insisted that he likedthe color and that porcelain had no character. Mrs. Dan only preventeda quarrel by suggesting that several courses should be served uponSevres.
Pettingill's scheme for lighting the room was particularly happy. Forthe benefit of his walls and the four lovely Monets which Monty hadpurchased at his instigation, he had designed a ceiling screen of heavyrich glass in tones of white that grew into yellow and dull green. Itserved to conceal the lights in the daytime, and at night the glare ofelectricity was immensely softened and made harmonious by passingthrough it. It gave a note of quiet to the picture, which caused eventhese men and women, who had been here and there and seen many things,to draw in their breath sharply. Altogether the effect manifestly madean impression.
Such an environment had its influence upon the company. It went fartoward making the dinner a success. From far in the distance came thesoftened strains of Hungarian music, and never had the little bandplayed the "Valse Amoureuse" and the "Valse Bleue" with the spirit itput into them that night. Yet the soft clamor in the dining-roominsistently ignored the emotion of the music. Monty, bored as he wasbetween the two most important dowagers at the feast, wondered dimlywhat invisible part it played in making things go. He had a vagrantfancy that without it there would have been no zest for talk, no noisycompetition to overcome, no hurdles to leap. As it was, the talkcertainly went well, and Mrs. Dan inspected the result of her work fromtime to time with smiling satisfaction. From across the table she heardColonel Drew's voice,--"Brewster evidently objects to a long siege. Heis planning to carry us by assault."
Mrs. Dan turned to "Subway" Smith, who was at her right--the latestaddition to her menagerie. "What is this friend of yours?" she asked."I have never seen such complex simplicity. This new plaything has noreal charm for him. He is breaking it to find out what it is made of.And something will happen when he discovers the sawdust."
"Oh, don't worry about him," said "Subway," easily; "Monty's at least agood sportsman. He won't complain, whatever happens. He'll accept thereckoning and pay the piper."
It was only toward the end of the evening that Monty found his rewardin a moment with Barbara Drew. He stood before her, squaring hisshoulders belligerently to keep away intruders, and she smiled up athim in that bewildering fashion of hers. But it was only for aninstant, and then came a terrifying din from the dining-room, followedby the clamor of crashing glass. The guests tried for a moment to becourteously oblivious, but the noise was so startling that suchpoliteness became farcical. The host, with a little laugh, went downthe hall. It was the beautiful screen near the ceiling that had fallen.A thousand pieces of shattered glass covered the place. The table was asickening heap of crushed orchids and sputtering candles. Frightenedservants rushed into the room from one side just as Brewster enteredfrom the other. Stupefaction halted them. After the first pulselessmoment of horror, exclamations of dismay went up on all sides. ForMonty Brewster the first sensation of regret was followed by adiabolical sense of joy.
"Thank the Lord!" he said softly in the hush.
The look of surprise he encountered in the faces of his guests broughthim up with a jerk.
"That it didn't happen while we were dining," he added with serenethankfulness. And his nonchalance scored for him in the idle game hewas playing.
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