“What shall I fill this up for, Mr Whittrick?” said Charley.
“O, really, Mr Vining, I did not mean that,” said Mr Whittrick. “With some clients, of course, we make sure of the money before acting; but I am in your debt still. What I meant was, are you disposed to go to the expense of men, day after day, the whole of their time on your business?”
“Yes, certainly,” said Charley, taking pen and ink. “Shall I fill this up for a hundred pounds?”
“No,” said Mr Whittrick quietly: “fifty will do for the present. But stay—let me see: make it to bearer, sir—Mr Smith or bearer; it might not be pleasant to Sir Philip Vining to have it known at his banker’s that I am transacting family business. You see, sir, mine’s a very well-known name, and one that has been blown upon a good deal, and some people are rather fastidious about it. And to tell the truth, sir, I really am agent sometimes in rather unpleasant matters. Thank you—that will do, sir. You shall have some information to-night, and of course, under these circumstances, a great deal may seem very trivial; but you must not mind that, for sometimes very trivial acts turn out to be the most important in the end, while again noisy matters turn out empty bangs. I think we understand one another so far; but would you like a few attentions to be paid to the lady?”
“What?” said Charley abruptly.
“Would you like one of my agents to give an eye to Number 19 Crescent Villas, Regents-park, Mr Vining?”
“No,” said Charley sternly; “certainly not!”
“Very good, sir,” said Mr Whittrick, in his quiet way. “Have you any farther commands?”
“No,” said Charley, taking the hint, and rising; and the next minute he was face to face with Sir Philip Vining in the street.
For a few moments father and son stood quite taken aback at the suddenness of the encounter; but Charley was the first to recover from his surprise.