"You haven't sold any shares;—have you?" This question Sir Felix asked Lord Nidderdale at the club. Nidderdale was constant in his attendance at the Board, and Felix was not a little afraid that he might be jockied also by him.
"Not a share."
"Nor got any profits?"
"Not a shilling of any kind. As far as money is concerned my only transaction has been my part of the expense of Fisker's dinner."
"What do you get then, by going into the city?" asked Sir Felix.
"I'm blessed if I know what I get. I suppose something will turn up some day."
"In the meantime, you know, there are our names. And Grendall is making a fortune out of it."
"Poor old duffer," said his lordship. "If he's doing so well, I think Miles ought to be made to pay up something of what he owes. I think we ought to tell him that we shall expect him to have the money ready when that bill of Vossner's comes round."
"Yes, by George; let's tell him that. Will you do it?"
"Not that it will be the least good. It would be quite unnatural to him to pay anything."