“Absolutely.” Simpson wagged brown beard. “He’s paying at ninety days to the second.”
For the past year, thanks to seven warless months of excellent trading, Jamesons had made almost their usual profits: but Peter’s capital account—with the closing of the Nirvana gamble and the money lent to his brother Arthur—showed a big drop; stood at considerably less than twenty thousand pounds.
It seemed only prudent to try and let furnished the house in Lowndes Square. The Rawlings’, hourly more prosperous, would have taken it gladly: but Peter refused to negotiate with them. Eventually he secured as tenant from March quarter-day a prominent Belgian embusqué whose rent barely covered expenses.
Add to these circumstances the arrival of Arthur Jameson, demanding assistance of every kind from the loan of a dress-suit to the introductions necessary for a commission in the Flying Corps—and it will be seen that Peter’s civilian occupations (though he was honestly pleased to see his brother again) were neither pleasant nor unstrenuous.
§ 2
Patricia felt she could help but little, console even less. For it must be remembered that all such difficulties were dealt with in days of leave, extorted from a sulkily-reluctant Adjutant; failing that extortion, by telegraph, letter and long-distance telephone. The bulk of those two months, Peter had to live with his regiment. And the regiment provided no antidote for annoyances.
Major Fox-Goodwin’s promotion to the Command of the Chalkshires newly-formed twelfth Battalion, and the transfer-application of his two senior subalterns, gave Locksley, who accepted this answer to his pourparlers in silence, his chance. Bromley and Peter, Peabody and Arkwright, found themselves swamped out with full lieutenants, all eager for promotion to Captaincies.
It was already understood among the men that “Mr. ’Arold ’ad ’ad enough, of that there Locksley; and ‘P.J.’ ’e’d thrown his ’and in too.” At the slightest opening, the Cockneys would have shown on which side their sympathies lay. But no such opening was provided.
The two friends carried on loyally, helping their not-too-competent seniors towards efficiency.
And always, the Company improved. By now, it had khaki uniforms (though not its equipment): and a long rifle, servicable though not “Service Pattern,” for every man. It had, too, a band of its own—three flutes and two drums—to which it marched merrily along the sea-front.