“There, don’t make a bother: sit down and have some breakfast, Braham,” said the younger man. “These sort of things are so dooced unpleasant.”
“Unpleasant? There’s nothing further from my thoughts, my lord, than making things unpleasant. I only came, after writing twice to remind your lordship that three bills, which fell due a month since, were all returned, and now lie in my hands, with interest and expenses attached. Unpleasant? Why, I give you my word, that Moss, or Peterson, or Barcohen, would have had your lordship arrested and in Bream’s Buildings or Cursitor Street days ago. But I don’t do business like that. I only accommodate gentlemen of position, and then, in return, I expect to get the treatment one meets with from gentlemen of position.”
“You Israelitish hound!” muttered his lordship, “I’d pitch you out of the window if I dared!”
“Did your lordship speak?” said the visitor, bending his head aside in an attitude of attention.
“Speak? No! Only I’ve such a confounded headache this morning, I’m not fit for business matters. Richmond last night with some friends.”
“Yes; I heard so,” said the visitor, softly. “Mad’moiselle Duval was of the party, I think?”
“How the dooce did you know that?” exclaimed his lordship, uneasily.
“Oh! really I hardly know. It is one of the troubles of position, my lord, that every one hears of your movements.”
“I’ll lay twenty to one that you’ve had some hook-beaked, unshaven dog watching me ever since I’ve been back!” exclaimed his lordship, impetuously.
“He, he, he!” laughed the Jew. “Your lordship may have a headache, but you are really most keen and business-like this morning.”