Never out of mischief, never still, always teasing, eternally prying about, listening and meddling, even Heather at last declared, if she only had the money to spare, she would rather pay for Harry’s education than be tormented with him.
But there was an end coming to all such torments and discomforts—an end which found Heather but poorly prepared for its advent; and the beginning of this end was a visit Arthur received on the 2nd of January, from a tall, thin, grey-haired, hard-featured individual, who sent in his card as—
“Mr. Allan Stewart,”
“Being at Kemms Park,” he stated, after the first civilities had been gone through, “I thought you would excuse my calling, and talking over a little matter of business with you. It is about that house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields; you know, Mr. Dudley, we cannot purchase it from you. I am very sorry indeed, but such a thing is quite out of the question.”
“Why?” Arthur demanded.
“Well, in the first place, the position is anything but desirable; and, in the second, the price you ask is prohibitory. Besides, what do we want with purchasing properties? we need only rent offices. It would be the merest waste of money for us to do otherwise.”
“Mr. Black assured me there was not the slightest doubt of the Company purchasing my lease,” answered Squire Dudley.
“Yes, because Mr. Black thought the management was going to be left entirely to him,” was the reply. “Mr. Black now finds he was a little mistaken, and that, being mistaken, he led you astray.”
“He was the originator of the Company, or else I have been greatly misinformed,” said Arthur, defiantly.
“You have not been misinformed,” Mr. Stewart answered; “but the originator of a company does not necessarily mean the proprietor.”