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"Poor man!" she scoffed.
Lady Mary rejoined them.
"Well, I must go," she announced. "Take me to the gates, won't you, Mr. Pratt? Good-by, Miss Bultiwell. How these children have improved since you had the charge of them."
"Au revoir, Miss Bultiwell," Jacob ventured.
She leaned towards him as he turned to follow Lady Mary.
"If you come back," she whispered threateningly, "it will cost me my situation and I will never speak to you again."
"I won't come," he promised sadly.
"She's a charming girl," Lady Mary said. "Why won't she have you?"
"It's a long story," Jacob sighed.
"We'll see what we can do on Thursday night," she reflected. "Good-by!
I shall tell mother we are getting along famously. Don't forget Thursday at eight o'clock."
The drawing-room at Delchester House was large and in its way magnificent, although there was in the atmosphere that faint, musty odour, as though holland covers had just been removed from the furniture, and the place only recently prepared for habitation. The Marchioness, who was alone, greeted Jacob with much cordiality.
"I hope you won't mind our not having a party for you, Mr. Pratt," she said. "We are just ourselves, and a quaint person whom Delchester has picked up in the city, some one who is going to help him make some money, I hope. You have no idea, Mr. Pratt, how hard things are to-day for people with inherited estates."
Jacob murmured a word of sympathy. Then the Marquis appeared, followed by Lady Mary, who drew him to one side to ask him questions about Sybil; next came Felixstowe, who looked in to say "How do you do" on his way to dine with a friend; and finally, to Jacob's amazement, the butler announced, "Mr. Dane Montague!"
Mr. Dane Montague, in a new dress suit, his hair treated by a West End hairdresser, had a generally toned-down appearance. Jacob was conscious of a sensation of genuine admiration when, upon the introduction being effected, the newcomer held out his hand without the slightest embarra.s.sment.
"I have the pleasure of knowing Mr. Pratt," he announced. "We have, in fact, carried through a little business deal together. Not such a bad one, either, eh, Mr. Pratt? A few thousands each, or something of that sort, if I remember rightly. Even a few thousands are worth picking up for us city men, Marquis," he added, turning to Lord Delchester.
The Marquis' eyes glistened. His face seemed more hawklike than ever.
"I should be exceedingly grateful to any one who showed me how to make a few thousands," he declared.
"Well, Mr. Pratt and I between us ought to find that easy enough,"
the financier observed. "Treat the City right, pat and stroke her the right way, and she'll yield you all you ask for. Buck up against her and she'd down a Rothschild."
Dinner was a quaint meal. Mr. Dane Montague engaged his hostess'
attention with fragments of stilted conversation, the Marquis was almost entirely silent, and Lady Mary monopolised Jacob, except for a few moments when her mother alluded to the subject of the letter.
"Dear Mary is so conscientious," she murmured. "She positively couldn't rest until she had had it out with you."
Jacob stammered some sort of answer, which was none the more coherent because of the kick under the table with which Lady Mary favoured him.
Afterwards she continued to carry out the parental behest and again completely absorbed his attention. She wound up by lingering behind, as he held open the door at the conclusion of dinner, and whispering audaciously in his ear.
"We're getting on too well, you know. You'd better be careful, or I shall be Lady Mary Pratt, after all!"
The Marquis moved his chair down to the side of Jacob's, on the latter's return to the table.
"I am glad to see you on such excellent terms with my daughter, Mr.
Pratt," he observed with a smile.
"Lady Mary is most gracious," Jacob murmured uneasily.
"My son, too," the Marquis continued, "has always spoken to me highly of your sagacity in business affairs. I understand that you are one of those fortunate people who have ama.s.sed a large fortune in a very short s.p.a.ce of time."
"I cannot take any of the credit to myself," Jacob replied. "I invested a little money with my brother, who was prospecting for oil in the western States of America, and he met with the most amazing success."
The Marquis himself filled Jacob's gla.s.s.
"I hope you like my port," he said. "It was laid down by my father when he was a young man. My cellar is one of the last of the family treasures remaining to us."
"I have never tasted anything like it," Jacob admitted truthfully.
"Returning to the subject of commercial life," his host went on, "I have always hoped that I might have introduced my son, Felixstowe, into some remunerative post. Automobiles, they tell me, may be made a profitable source of income. Do you happen to have any investments in that direction, Mr. Pratt?"
"Not at present," Jacob answered. "The industry is, I believe, a sound one."
"Ah!" the Marquis regretted. "At some future time, perhaps. I myself am much interested in City affairs. Our friend, Mr. Dane Montague, has kindly placed me upon the board of one of his companies, and if another company in which he is interested is floated, I am also to join that. The fees so far have not been munificent, but it is encouraging to have made a start."
Jacob muttered something noncommittal. Mr. Dane Montague leaned across the table. He had been listening to every word of the conversation between the two.
"You are a person of imagination, Mr. Pratt," he said. "I gathered that from our brief business connection."
"Did you?" Jacob replied. "I had rather an idea--"
"Don't say a word," the other interrupted. "We had a little tussle, I admit. Brain against brain, and you won. I have never borne you any malice--in fact I should be proud to be a.s.sociated in another business venture with you."
The Marquis cleared his throat.
"I asked Mr. Pratt to meet you this evening, Mr. Montague," he said, "not knowing that you were previously acquainted, but thinking that you might like to put your latest scheme before him."
"I shall be proud to do so," was the prompt declaration. "My latest scheme, Mr. Pratt, is simple enough. I propose to appeal to the credulity of the British middle cla.s.ses. I propose to form a sort of home university for the study of foreign languages and dispense instruction by means of pamphlets."
"I don't mean that one," the Marquis interposed. "I mean the little scheme, the--er--one where a certain amount of remuneration in the shape of commission was to be forthcoming for the introduction of further capital. You follow me, I am sure?"
Mr. Montague's face was furrowed with thought. He sipped his wine and looked across at Jacob furtively. A certain uneasiness was mingled with his natural optimism.
"I am afraid," he said, "that Mr. Pratt is too big a man for us. What about your brother-in-law, Lord William Thornd.y.k.e?"
The Marquis coughed.
"I think," he p.r.o.nounced, "that I have already been too benevolent to the members of my immediate family circle. Besides, it would be quite impossible to ensure from my brother-in-law that measure of secrecy which the circ.u.mstances demand."
Mr. Montague took another gla.s.s of wine and appeared to gain courage.