The chair in which he sat bore signs of wear, and might have been a legacy from his undergraduate days. The pipe, which was gripped by even white teeth, was charred and battered, and was evidently an old friend.
The remains of a substantial breakfast lay on the table, and Drake quickly read the letters of the morning. When he had finished, his old housekeeper brought him a note which had just been delivered by a messenger.
It was from John Gaunt, and asked for an appointment at the earliest possible moment.
“I am quite willing to come to you, but should you be near the West End to-day, I shall be glad if you will call. Perhaps you will lunch with me.”
“The man is very polite. I wonder what he wants?” he muttered.
It was but yesterday that he had been to Gaunt’s office, when he had received a check for so unexpectedly large an amount. Although they had been together but a few minutes, he was intensely interested in the millionaire. For one thing, he had been unable to fix Gaunt in his proper place. He could not decide whether his predominant traits were good or evil and he longed for an opportunity to find out. It was natural that he should imagine what untold good could be done by a man with the power of millions in his hands. As a matter of fact, during his return from the City to the East End, Drake had been dreaming dreams. He had been planning what he would do if he were the possessor of such wealth, and the problem proved to be fascinating in the extreme.
After a little consideration he decided to lunch with Gaunt, and so scribbled a note to that effect which he gave to the messenger. Then he started on his morning’s work with whole-hearted energy. It was a pitiful task, for he had devoted his life to the submerged—to those victims of misfortune and incompetence or laziness, or drink, who dragged out their weary existence in hidden corners and out of sight.
First he would try to give them a little physical strength by feeding them, and then to give them an opportunity of making another effort to regain their foothold on life. It was marvellous how successful he had been, although at times despondency held him in its grip. But now, thanks to Gaunt’s generosity, he would be able to enlarge the scope of his work, and carry out many new schemes.
To his astonishment a luxurious motor-car pulled up before his house, which he found had been sent by Gaunt to take him to Park Lane. A smile lit up his face as he sank back against the comfortable cushions, for his rather shabby attire was strangely out of keeping with such magnificence.
A crowd of urchins had gathered round, and they gave a wild cheer when he started. Drake looked back and gaily waved his hand.