"I cannot say that I thought much about it," was the banker's answer; and he was twirling an ornament on the mantelpiece about with his hand as he spoke: a small, costly vase of old china from Dresden.
"But don't you think it would be, sir?"
"I daresay it might be. The gardens and conservatories have been well kept up; and you and Mary Ursula have both a weakness for rare flowers."
That was perfectly true. And the "weakness" showed itself then, for the young man went off into a rapturous description of the wealth of Raven's Priory in respect of floriculture. The ten minutes slipped away to twenty; and in his own enthusiasm Mr. Blake-Gordon did not notice the absence of it in his hearer.
"But I must not keep you longer, sir," he suddenly said, as his eyes caught the hands of the clock. "Perhaps you will let me see you about it to-morrow. Or allow my father to see you--that will be better."
"Not to-morrow," said Mr. Peter Castlemaine. "I shall be particularly engaged all day. Some other time."
"Whenever you please, sir. Only--we must take care that we are not forestalled in the purchase. Much delay might----"
"We can obtain a promise of the first refusal," interrupted the banker, in a somewhat impatient tone. "That will not be difficult."
"True. Goodnight, sir. And thank you for giving us this most charming evening."
"Goodnight, William."