There was a good-humoured, pleasant laugh at Spendquick’s enthusiasm, and a general shaking of hands and pocketing of the invitation cards.
“You don’t look like a dancing man,” said Avenel, turning to the wit, who was plump and somewhat gouty,—as wits who dine out five days in the week generally are; “but we shall have supper at one o’clock.”
Infinitely offended and disgusted, the wit replied dryly, “that every hour of his time was engaged for the rest of the season,” and, with a stiff salutation to the baron, took his departure. The rest, in good spirits, hurried away to their respective cabriolets; and Leslie was following them into the hall, when the baron, catching hold of him, said, “Stay, I want to talk to you.”
CHAPTER XIV.
The baron turned into his drawing-room, and Leslie followed.
“Pleasant young men, those,” said Levy, with a slight sneer, as he threw himself into an easy-chair and stirred the fire. “And not at all proud; but, to be sure, they are—under great obligations to me. Yes; they owe me a great deal a propos, I have had a long talk with Frank Hazeldean,—fine young man, remarkable capacities for business. I can arrange his affairs for him. I find, on reference to the Will Office, that you were quite right; the Casino property is entailed on Frank. He will have the fee simple. He can dispose of the reversion entirely. So that there will be no difficulty in our arrangements.”
“But I told you also that Frank had scruples about borrowing on the event of his father’s death.”
“Ay, you did so. Filial affection! I never take that into account in matters of business. Such little scruples, though they are highly honourable to human nature, soon vanish before the prospect of the King’s Bench. And, too, as you so judiciously remarked, our clever young friend is in love with Madame di Negra.”
“Did he tell you that?”