“Of course I do. It’s all settled; make it next week. Good-bye!”
Ardmore ate his dinner oblivious of the fact that people at the neighbouring tables turned to look at him. He overheard his name mentioned, and a woman just behind him let it be known to her companions and any one else who cared to hear that he was the brother-in-law of the Duke of Ballywinkle. Another voice in the neighbourhood kindly remarked that Ardmore was the only decent member of the family, and that he was not the one whose wife had just left him, nor yet the one who was going to marry the chorus girl whose father kept a delicatessen shop in Hoboken. It is very sad to be unable to dine without having family skeletons joggle one’s elbow, and Ardmore was annoyed. The head waiter hung officiously near; the man who served him was distressingly eager; and then the voice behind him rose insistently:
“—worth millions and yet he can’t find anybody to eat with him.”
This was almost true, and a shadow passed across Ardmore’s face and his eyes grew grave as he humbly reflected that he was indeed a pitiable object. He waved away his plate and called for coffee, and at that moment a middle-aged man appeared at the door, scanned the room for a moment, and then threaded his way among the tables to Ardmore.
“I heard you were here and thought I’d look you up. How are you, Ardy?”
“Very well, thank you, Mr. Billings. Have you dined? Sorry; which way are you heading?”
The newcomer had the bearing of a gentleman used to consideration. He was, indeed, the secretary of the Bronx Loan and Trust Company, whose business was chiefly the administration of the Ardmore estate, and Ardmore knew him very well. He was afraid that Billings had traced him to Atlanta for one of those business discussions which always vexed and perplexed him so grievously, and the thought of this further depressed his spirits. But the secretary at once eased his mind.
“I’m looking for a man, and I’m not good at the business. I’ve lost him and I don’t understand it, I don’t understand it,” and the secretary seemed to be half-musing to himself as he sat down and rested his arms on the table.
“You might give me the job. I’m following a slight clue myself just at present.”
The secretary, who had no great opinion of Ardmore’s mental capacity, stared at the young man vacantly. Then it occurred to him that possibly Ardmore might be of service.