TONY’S BAD LUCK
Two weeks later Tony and his friend were guests at a popular London hotel, not far from Charing Cross.
We will postpone business till we have seen a little of London,” said George Spencer. “Luckily my business is not of a pressing character, and it can wait.”
“You have been in London before, Mr. Spencer,” said Tony. “I am afraid you will find it a bore going round with me.”
“Not at all. I spent a week here when a boy of twelve, and saw nothing thoroughly, so I am at your disposal. Where shall we go first?”
“I should like to see Buckingham Palace, where the king lives.”
“He doesn’t live there much. However, we’ll go to see it, but we’ll take the Parliament House and Westminster Abbey on the way.”
In accordance with this program they walked—for the distance was but small—to Westminster Abbey. It would be out of place for me to describe here that wonderful church where so much of the rank and talent of past ages lies buried. It is enough to say that Tony enjoyed it
highly. He afterward visited the Parliament House. This occupied another hour. When they came out Mr. Spencer said:
“Tony, I have got to go to my banker’s. Do you care to come?”