Cutler and Jobson laughed, they had their little jokes together. "The old boy ought to have married her himself! I'll bet you he's more in love with her than Allan, his son, is!"
"I know Gowerhurst," said Coombe. Coombe was a large man who smoked expensive cigars, with the bands on them, for effect.
"Know him, I should think I do. He owes me a bit now! I'll bet you if he hears I'm going to—what's the name of the place—Homewood—he won't turn up—catch him!"
Lord Gowerhurst had received his invitation. He had not been down to Homewood, he had no love for the country, ancient historical houses and early English gardens did not appeal to him. The house that found the most favour in his sight was his favourite and particular Club, and he preferred the card room there or the billiard room to any garden that ever bloomed. But he must go, he must offer himself up as a sacrifice. Old Homewood would be there of course and his Lordship was not quite easy in his mind about certain speculations into which he had been led. Lumeyer had induced him to put five of the twelve thousand he had obtained from Homewood into the Stelling Reef Gold Mine and his Lordship had heard bad accounts of that same concern. He had tried to sell out and had tried vainly.
Lumeyer, a densely black bearded man, with cherry lips, had told him all would be well, but his Lordship did not believe it. It might conceivably be possible that presently he would need old Homewood's help again.
"Doosid bore and beastly nuisance!" he said. "But I'll have to go, I hate family parties and that kind of thing and Kathleen hasn't mentioned if there's a billiard room. Let me see—the fourteenth will be Friday. I'll leave a telegram with Parsons, the hall porter here, to send on to me the first thing Monday morning, demanding my presence in Town. Kathleen's done well, doosid well, thanks to me! I don't like the tone of her letter, though, no, hang me, I don't like the tone of her letter! Cold and formal, but that's Kathleen, takes after her mother! Doosid cold and doosid formal, well, well!" He paused. "Whatever happens I'll be able to say I did the best possible for my daughter. A man's got to consider his family, I've considered mine, no one can say to the contrary!"
It was in the dining room during luncheon time at his Club that his Lordship was holding communion with his own thoughts. He started now at the sight of a tall elderly, white haired, soldierly man who came in, followed by a somewhat younger man—it was the younger man who claimed his Lordship's attention.
"Who's that?" he asked himself. "Seen that face before—who the doose is it now? Not a member——"
"Here Paul!"
"Yes, my Lord?"