‘That,’ said the manager, with a polite bow, ‘is sure to be successful.’
‘But,’ said Lucian, with a childlike candour, ‘what am I to do if you have no money of mine left? I can’t go on without money.’
The manager laughed.
‘We shall be pleased to allow you an overdraft,’ he said. ‘Give us some security, or get a friend of stability to act as guarantor for you—that’s all that’s necessary. I suppose the new tragedy will bring you a small fortune? You did very well out of your first play, if I remember rightly.’
‘I can easily procure a guarantor,’ answered Lucian. His thoughts had immediately flown to Darlington. ‘Yes,’ he continued, ‘I think we shall have a long run—longer, perhaps, than before.’
Then he went away, announcing that he would make the necessary arrangements. When he had gone, the manager, to satisfy a momentary curiosity of his own, made a brief inspection of Lucian’s account. He smiled a little as he totalled it up. Mr. and Mrs. Lucian Damerel had gone through seventeen thousand pounds in four years, and of that amount twelve thousand represented capital.
Lucian carried the mystifying pass-book to his club and began to study the rows of figures. They made his head ache and his eyes burn, and the only conclusion he came to was that a few thousands of pounds are soon spent, and that Haidee of late had been pretty prodigal with her cheques. One fact was absolutely certain: his ten thousand, and her two thousand, and the five thousand which he had earned, were all gone, never to return. He felt somewhat depressed at this thought, but recovered his spirits when he remembered the value of his pictures, his books, and his other possessions, and the prospects of increased royalties in the golden days to be. He went off to seek out Darlington in the city as joyously as if he had been embarking on a voyage to the Hesperides.
Darlington was somewhat surprised to see Lucian in Lombard Street. He knew all the details of Lucian’s business within ten minutes, and had made up his mind within two more.
‘Of course, I’ll do it with pleasure, old chap,’ he said, with great heartiness. ‘But I think I can suggest something far preferable. These people don’t seem to have given you any particular advantages, and there was no need for them to bother you with a letter reminding you that you owed them a miserable couple of hundred. Look here: you had better open two accounts with us; one for yourself and one for Mrs. Damerel, and keep them distinct—after all, you know, women rather mix things up. Give Robertson and Harcourt instructions to pay your royalties into your own account here, and pay your household expenses and bills out of it. Mrs. Damerel’s account won’t be a serious matter—mere pinmoney, you know—and we can balance it out of yours at periodic intervals. That’s a much more convenient and far simpler thing than giving the other people a guarantee for an overdraft.’
‘It seems to be so, certainly,’ said Lucian. ‘Thanks, very many. And what am I to do in arranging this?’