This time there was nothing unusual or disquieting in the tone. Grey had himself caught the import of his own voice in his previous reply, and felt he had made a great mistake. It was very hard though for him, Grey, a man of his position and standing, to sit there and be blandly approved of by this young man—by this young man who seemed to take his own success in all things as a foregone conclusion. He, Grey, must play his cards carefully, and above all things he must not show the direction in which it was necessary for him to force the game. But he was in the dark; and if denied the expression of his feelings to his voice, he might allow them to run riot over his face, and it was a relief to frown and scowl and sneer in silence.
"I have first of all a favour to ask you, Mr. Grey."
"I am sure, Sir William, if it is in my power to grant it, I shall be only too happy to do so." This was said in the banker's most urbane accents.
"Well, I understand that your bank has kept the Midharst account for a long time; will you be kind enough to accept the keeping of mine?"
"The Midharst has been the most important of all our accounts for a long time, and we shall feel honoured and delighted if you will favour us with yours."
There was nothing very dreadful about this. It seemed as if the young baronet would turn out as confiding and uninquisitive as the old one. So far this looked promising.
"And now," said Sir William, "will you do me another favour?"
"If," returned the banker, in a gay tone of badinage, "the second favour at all resembles the first, I think I could go on granting you such favours all the night."
This young man was not only simple and confiding, but downright amiable and sociable.
"You must not think I am extravagant when I have said what I am going to say."