"I know what to answer, sir," said Sidney, somewhat stiffly. He objected to this advice-gratis principle, and thought that Mr. Geoffry Hinchford might have left him to his own judgment.
"No, you don't, and that's why I sent for you. Maurice will be thirty-one next week—it's a little family affair, almost exclusively confined to members of the family, and I hope that you will both come."
"Sir—I——"
"Bygones are bygones; we do not make a mere pretence of having forgotten the past—we Hinchfords," said his uncle. "Sidney, I will ask it as a favour?"
"Very well, sir. But my father is not well, and I fear not able to bear any extra fatigue."
"I am not afraid of old Jemmy's consent," said the banker. "There, go to your desk, and don't waste valuable time in prolixity."
Late that day Maurice Hinchford addressed his cousin. Sidney was going down the bank steps homewards, when his cousin followed him, and passed his arm through his.
"Sidney—you'll find two letters of mine at home. They are for you and your father. I shall call it deuced unkind to say No to their contents!"
"Suppose we say Yes, then!"
"Thank you. The governor and I want you and your governor down at our place next week. No excuses. Even Mr. Geoffry Hinchford will not have them this time; that stern paterfamilias, who thinks familiarity with me will breed the usual contempt."