“Their incomes, perhaps, Mr Elbraham, but not their position and their entrée to good society. Sir, you could not even buy mine.”
“But I could your bills,” said the other, with a grin.
“And hold them over me, you wretched little cad!” said the young man to himself. Then aloud:
“I can assure you, Mr Elbraham, that this dinner will give you the step you wanted. Lady Littletown stands very high in society. The Duchess of Redesby will be there, and Lord Henry Moorpark.”
“What! old Apricot—old yellow and ripe!” said Elbraham with a chuckle.
“Lord Henry Moorpark is a thorough specimen of an English nobleman, Mr Elbraham,” said the secretary stiffly; “and I consider that if the only thing I had done was to gain you an introduction to him, I should have earned all the wages, as you call them, that you have condescended to pay me.”
“Yes, of course—yes, to be sure. There, there, don’t be so hot and peppery, Litton. I’m a bit put out this morning. By the way, would you have the brougham and pair or one horse?”
“Pair, decidedly,” said the young man.
“You’ll not go with me?”
“No; I come afterwards. You shall bring me back if you will.”