‘Excuse me one instant,’ said Craig. ‘I will be down immediately to welcome you to my house. You will, I trust, take breakfast with us. And you, too, Redgrave, will breakfast with us. Let me beg you not to run away as you did yesterday morning.’
The bank manager had positively turned courtier!
On his way down he intercepted Mrs. Bridget between the dining-room and the kitchen, and told her to have breakfast ready for five within half an hour.
‘But——’ began Mrs. Bridget, raising her bony hands.
‘For five,’ repeated Raphael Craig, ‘in half an hour.’
Then he went forward, and invited Simon Lock to enter, and led him to the drawing-room, and Richard also. His attitude towards his guests, though a shade formal, was irreproachably hospitable. Anyone could see that Simon Lock felt himself at a disadvantage. The great and desperate financier had anticipated a reception utterly different; this suavity and benignity did not fit in with the plan of campaign which he had schemed out, and he was nonplussed.
Once he did manage to put in:
‘I called to see you, Craig——’
‘After breakfast, I pray——’ the other cut him short.
A gong rang. Raphael Craig rose and opened the drawing-room door, and the three men passed into the dining-room. Coffee, bacon, and eggs were on the table. The two girls—Teresa in a light summer frock and Juana still in her dark habit—stood by the mantelpiece. They were evidently in a state of great curiosity as to the stranger, the rumour of whose advent had reached them through Mrs. Bridget. Juana was, beyond question, perturbed. The fact was that at Teresa’s instigation she had meant that morning to approach her father amicably, and was fearful of the upshot. Raphael Craig, however, cut short her suspense. He kissed both girls on the forehead, and then said: