"What, John Wingate from New York?" he exclaimed.
Wingate assented briefly. Lord Dredlinton advanced at once with outstretched hand. All the amiability which he could muster at a moment's notice was diffused into his tone and manner.
"My dear sir," he said, "I am delighted to meet you. I have just been dining with our mutual friend, Peter Phipps, and your name was the last mentioned. I, in fact, accepted a commission to find you out and convey a message from Phipps. There is a little matter in which you are both indirectly interested which he wants to discuss."
Wingate had risen to his feet. By the side of the slighter man, his height and appearance seemed almost imposing.
"To be quite frank with you, Lord Dredlinton," he said, as he returned the newcomer's greeting without enthusiasm, "I cannot imagine any subject in which I could share an interest with Mr. Phipps."
Lord Dredlinton was politely surprised.
"Is that so? Peter Phipps is an awfully good fellow."
"Mr. Phipps is a director of the British and Imperial Granaries,
Limited," Wingate said quietly.
"So am I," Lord Dredlinton announced, with a bland smile.
"I am aware of it," was the curt reply.