‘Class A, Number 1, and mentioned at the Agricultural Hall,’ he cried, hugging himself in his delight. His sister hugged him also, so he was a much-embraced young man. ‘Am I not a man of business, Maude? You can’t buy ’em—you must breed ’em. One shilling with the basket. I shook him in the first round, and he never rallied after.’
‘You are a dear good boy. You did splendidly.’
‘That’s the way to handle ’em. He saw that I was a real fizzer and full of blood. One business man can tell another at a glance.’
Maude laughed, for Jack, with his cavalry swagger and a white weal all round his sunburned face to show where his chin-strap hung, looked the most unbusiness-like of mortals.
‘Why did you offer forty pounds?’ she asked.
‘Well, you have to begin somewhere.’
‘But why forty?’
‘Because it is what we offer when we are buying the hairies—trooper’s chargers, you know. It’s a great thing to have a fixed rule in business. I never go higher than forty—rule one, section one, and no exceptions in the margin.’
They lunched together at the Holborn, and Jack took Maude afterwards to what he called ‘a real instructive show,’ which proved to be a horse-sale at Tattersall’s. They then drove back to the lawyer’s, and there they found a letter waiting addressed to Mrs. Crosse. Maude tore it open.
‘Dear Mrs. Crosse,’ said this delightful note, ‘I am happy to be able to inform you that the directors have decided to stop the legal proceedings, and to accept your offer of forty pounds in full satisfaction of all claims due against your husband.’