'And Mopkinson said you would not care about that. He believed you intended to marry a woman of high family.'
'Ah, that was Mopkinson,' said Mr. Wetter, still smiling.
'Podlinbury said marriage was not in your way at all, and then they all laughed.'
'Did Podlinbury say that?' said Mr. Wetter, grinning from ear to ear. 'Now I really cannot conceive what should have made them all laugh.'
'I cannot imagine myself,' said Mr. Lingard, 'and I told them so, and then they all roared worse than ever.'
'Let me make amends for your having been laughed at on my account, my dear Lingard, by asking you to dinner. Come and dine with me at the club to-night. We shall have time to wash our hands and to get to table by half-past eight.'
'No, not to-night, thanks,' said Mr. Lingard; 'I am engaged, and I must push on, by the way, for I dine at eight. Shall we meet on Friday?'
'Friday! Where?'
'At the house of one of your City magnates. You know him, I suppose--Mr. Calverley?'
'Mr. Calverley! Is there a dinner at his house in Great Walpole-street on Friday?'