“Righto! Tell you what I’m prepared to do. I’ll pal you up, take you to lunch and dinner at the smart places, take you to the Opera right nights, and the mater shall ask you to dine once in Belgrave Square and send you cards for her big shows. Then the governor shall ask you to lunch at his club one day, and if there’s anything doing, you tumble, there are a couple of his clubs I think he could put you up for. You’ll be seen about with me. People will ask who you are. I shall lay it on thick, of course, about the millions, and before you know where you are, old bean, you’ll be hobnobbing with all the dukes and duchesses of the land.”
“I see,” Jacob murmured. “And what are your terms?”
“A thousand down, and two hundred and fifty a month,” the young man replied. “You pay all the expenses, of course.”
“Does that include the luncheon with your father and the dinner with your mother?” Jacob asked.
“It includes everything. Of course, if the governor has a word or two to say on his own, that’s neither here nor there. I want to see you a bit more ambitious, Pratt,” the young man declared, throwing one leg over the other and lighting a fresh cigarette. “It’s the millions that count, nowadays. Why, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t marry one of our set, if you play your cards properly and drop that other rabble. And look here, old dear, I’ll give you a straight tip. You chuck 100, Russell Square. They’re too fly, those chaps. I’m looking around for anything there may be to pick up myself, but they’re too hot for me.”
Jacob glanced at his watch.
“Well,” he said, “I’m very much obliged to you, Lord Felixstowe, for your visit, and I have thoroughly enjoyed our conversation. I shall certainly remember your warning, and as for your offer—well, I’ll think about it.”
The visitor rose reluctantly to his feet.
“It’s an offer I wouldn’t make to every one, Pratt,” he concluded. “Just happens I’m rather at a loose end—had a nasty week at Newmarket. I might even get you a few days down at our place in Norfolk, if you know how to handle a gun.”
“I’ll consider it,” Jacob promised once more. “You’ll have to excuse me just now. I’m lunching with a young lady—Miss Bultiwell, in fact.”