As the clock struck eleven he took up his hat and started on his momentous business.
While he was on his way to the Lackland mansion in Grosvenor Square the earl himself was seated in the breakfast-room munching his toast and sipping his coffee.
Lady Lackland was seated at the table.
Fitz and Ethel were out in the park at their morning gallop.
"Extraordinary thing," said Lady Lackland, in answer to a remark of the earl's, "I cannot understand it. The man has done so much, made so much money and obtained such wonderful power that he makes one afraid. I always said he was clever. I could see it the first moment I saw him. Do you remember the conversation I had with him the day of the thunder storm? It seemed almost as if he knew the codicil would be found. And he has actually consented to Fitz's engagement with Violet Mildmay. More, he has promised in an indefinite, cautious sort of way to advance the match. A wonderful man. I hope he will succeed; we want money, we must have it."
"We must," said the earl. "It is a singular thing that we have not been ruined long before this. I feared that the bills would have been called in long ago, but I seem to have heard very little of them lately."
"Perhaps your creditors think that Fitz will marry well and are waiting till you should get some money."
"Perhaps so," said the earl, coolly. "I wish Ethel were as well disposed of."
Lady Lackland sighed.
"Ethel is my great trouble," she said. "She is beautiful enough to make a really great match, but there is no doing anything with her; she is as cold as ice to all of them, and I am powerless."