“I am thinking of selling out,” said Lord Averil. “Indeed, I have been for some time thinking of it, but have idly put it off. If it would be quite convenient to give me the bonds, I would take them to town with me. I shall go up on Monday or Tuesday.”
Now, George Godolphin, rally your wits! What are you to answer? George did rally them, in a lame manner. Confused words, which neither he nor Lord Averil precisely understood—to the effect that in Thomas Godolphin’s absence, he, George, did not know exactly where to put his hand upon the securities—came forth. So Lord Averil courteously begged him not to take any trouble about it. He would leave them until another opportunity.
He shook hands cordially with George, and went out with a mental comment, “Not half the man of business that his brother is, and his father was: but wondrously like Cecil!” George watched the door close. He wiped the dewdrops which had gathered on his face; he looked round with the beseeching air of one seeking relief from some intense pain. Had Lord Averil persisted in his demand, what would have remained for him? Those are the moments in which man has been tempted to resort to the one irredeemable sin.
The door opened again, and George gave a gasp as one in agony. It was only Isaac Hastings. “Mr. Hurde wishes to know, sir, whether those bills are to go up to Glyn’s to-day or Monday?”
“They had better go to-day,” replied George. “Has Mr. Barnaby been in to-day?” he added, as Isaac was departing.
“Not yet.”
“If he does not come soon, some one must go down to the corn market to him. He is sure to be there. That is, if he is in town to-day.”
“I know he is in town,” replied Isaac. “I saw him as I was coming back from dinner. He was talking to Mr. Verrall.”
“To Mr. Verrall!” almost shouted George, looking up as if electrified into life. “Is he back again?”
“He is back again, sir. I think he had only then arrived. He was coming from towards the railway station.”