“I wish to Heaven I saw my way clear:” it was the owner of Kemms Park who uttered this by no means uncommon desire. “What shall I do, Raidsford, toss up which it is to be, or take your advice?”
“Your lordship must use your own judgment in the matter,” was the reply.
“Now, that is what provokes me about people,” remarked Lord Kemms, pettishly. “They say all manner of things to set one against a pet project, and then at the last moment declare a man must exercise his own judgment, as if he could do so under the circumstances. Don’t you know, a man cannot judge his own case? Since you have been counsel and adviser, why should you object to decide the question? Here is the way it stands,—you say the project cannot succeed; my respectable kinsman, Allan Stewart, says it not only can but shall. You have convinced me Mr. Black is no more honest than he can afford to be, or rather, you have confirmed a suspicion I previously entertained to that effect; but then here is a good thing, about which it may pay him to be honest at last; and—and—to finish the matter, I had a fancy to go into this venture, since I have sworn never again to ‘make a book.’ I think I’ll toss up, Raidsford, or draw lots; you shall hold them.”
“No, my lord, I will not; you ought not to let chance decide this question for you. It is one you ought to think out seriously, and——”
“Good heavens! I have been thinking about it for a week past,” interrupted Lord Kemms, pettishly.
“Then think of it for a week more; and think at the same time betting on horses is an honest and respectable way of amusing yourself, in comparison with selling your name to companies. In the one case you only ruin yourself, in the latter——”
“Hold, my Mentor,” once again interposed Lord Kemms, “we have gone over all that ground before;” and he balanced his spoon on the top of his coffee cup, and thoughtfully contemplated this feat of skill as he spoke.
“So, though you have taken the responsibility of advising, you decline that of deciding,” he went on. “Decide, and your words shall be to me as the laws of the Medes and Persians.”
“If your lordship really wish me to do so,” began Mr. Raidsford;—but at this juncture Lord Kemms pushed back his chair from the table, and walked over towards one of the windows.
“No, no,” he said; “I won’t ask you to do that; it would not be fair; besides, I am old enough to make up my own mind, and bear the consequence of my own acts. I will not be one of Mr. Black’s decoy ducks, as you are kind enough to style his directors. I will write to him on Monday, and——”