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A state of affairs which goes far to explain why the club was in a precarious condition. Charles Fox was of course as much at home at Brooks's as White's. It was, naturally, more of a political home for him than the Tory resort. This receives many illustrations in the letters of Selwyn, especially at the time when he formed his coalition with Lord North.
Fitzgibbon's description of the crisis; but then it was understood that Mr. Fitzgibbon was given to romancing. The News about Mr. Mildmay and Sir Everard Fitzgibbon and Phineas started together from Pall Mall for Portman Square, as both of them had promised to call on Lady Laura, but Fitzgibbon turned in at Brooks's as they walked up St. James's Square, and Phineas went on by himself in a cab.
She remembered, with a little sob, the last time she had traversed that road she was seated by John Brooks's side straining her eyes toward the bend in the road, watching eagerly for the first glimpse of the magnolia-tree, and the handsome young husband waiting there. Coy blushes suffused Daisy's cheeks as she struggled on through the pouring rain.
We must bear with the limited intelligence. All this was an emollient to my wounds, and I became consoled. But the springs of benevolence were dried up within me, and to this day I have never entirely recovered from the shock of John Brooks's coarse leer and his 'I know'd the Lord would provide. The infant plant of philanthropy was burned in my bosom as if by quick-lime.
Fox at Brooks's, whom I remember at Drummington, when I was a little girl, in a buff waistcoat and black satin small clothes. My brother Erith never played as a young man, nor sate up late he had no health for it; but my boy must do as every body does, you know.
From that prying and all-powerful God of Chance none, great or small, escaped. James's Street, and the beautiful barmaid of Nando's in whom my Lord Thurlow was said to be interested. All these, and much more not to be repeated, were duly set down in the betting-books at White's and Brooks's.
I lost a whole day while the Committee were deciding whether I should, or should not, be forced to repeat all the foolish, shabby, things that I had heard Sheil say at Brooks's. Everybody thought me right, as I certainly was. I cannot leave England without sending a few lines to you, and yet they are needless.
At Brooks's they said, "The last Government was the Derby; this is the Hoax." It is all very well to say that the candle of the wicked is put out in the long run; that they are as stubble before the wind, and as chaff that the storm carries away. So we were told in other times of tribulation. This was the sort of consolation that used to be offered in the jaunty days of Lord Palmerston.
She seemed to have expected to be Shylock! But she wasn't "just as usual." She was sitting by her window in the dark, with Mary Brooks's picture clutched tightly in one hand and her father's in the other, and she was whispering soft little messages to them. "Dear old daddy, you were in all the fraternities and societies, and on all the college papers and the 'varsity eight.
A giant in livery at the Ritz Hotel told me that 'two ladies answering to the description of the ladies I sought' had left the hotel about a quarter of an hour before I got there, and he didn't know where they had gone. Then I went to Brooks's to see if you were there, but you weren't, though they said you'd been there. That put the lid on it.
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