"How d'ye do, sir," spoke up Roland.
Sir Richard's little eyes peered out over his fat face, and he condescended to recognise his nephew by a nod. Bede Greatorex spoke a few words to the baronet, touching the matter in hand, and turned back to his desk, leaving Frank to escort the old gentleman out. Bede, about to cross the cheque, hesitated.
"Did Mr. Frank say a crossed cheque?" he asked, looking up.
"No, sir; he said simply a cheque," said Jenner, finding nobody else answered.
"Yes," broke out Roland, "it's fine to be that branch of the family. Getting their cheques for forty-four pounds! I wish I could get one for forty-four shillings."
"Have the goodness to attend to your own business, Mr. Yorke."
Bede Greatorex left the cheque uncrossed. In a few minutes, after putting things to rights on his desk, he gathered up his papers, including the cheque and chequebook, and went into his room. Putting the things altogether in his desk there,--for he had an engagement at twelve and the hour was within a minute or two of striking,--he locked it and went out by the other door, not coming into the front room again.
Now it happened that Bede Greatorex, who had expected to be absent half an hour at the longest, was unavoidably detained, so that when Sir Richard Yorke returned for his cheque it could not be given to him. Mr. Greatorex, however, was at home then, and drew out another. And the day went on.
"You must cancel that cheque, Bede," Mr. Greatorex casually observed to his son that same evening, after office-hours. "It was very unbusiness-like to leave it locked up, when you were not sure of coming back in time to give it to Sir Richard."
"But I thought I was sure. It does not matter."