“Certainly, I will do so, Isaac. Hem! An account, Isaac?”
“Yes, sir—wages, sir; and if you would make it convenient—”
“My good Isaac,” said the MC blandly, “as you must be aware, gentlemen are in the habit sometimes of taking rather long credit, and of often being in debt. I might cite to you His Royal Highness. But no one troubles thereon, because it is well known that sooner or later His Royal Highness will pay his debts.”
“Yes, sir; of course, sir; but wages, sir—”
“Are wanted, Isaac, of course. Now, my good Isaac, you must have seen how much occupied I have been of late. No: say no more now. I will look over your statement, and you shall be paid.”
A tremendous knock and ring cut short this little scene, and Denville wiped the dew from his face as he uttered a low sigh of relief.
“She will come down now.—Ah, my dear Mrs Barclay; my dear Barclay. Delighted to see you both.”
“I say, Denville, old fellow, you’re going it, eh?”
“My dear Barclay, a sheer necessity. You see how I have placed my son.”
“Umph! yes,” said the money-lender, with a chuckle; “but I’m no better off. You are. One less to keep, but at my expense.”