“Have you been to Pincote to-day?” said the banker.
“I have just returned from there,” answered the young man.
“If I were you, Edward,” said Mr. Cope, looking steadily at his son, “I wouldn’t allow my feelings to become too closely entangled with Miss Culpepper. You’re only on probation, you know, and I wouldn’t—in short, I wouldn’t push matters so far as to leave myself without a door of escape, in case anything should happen to—to—in short, you understand perfectly what I mean.”
“You mean to say, sir——” stammered the young man.
“I mean to say nothing more than I’ve said already,” interrupted the banker. “My meaning is perfectly simple. If you cannot understand it, you are more stupid than I take you to be. Good-night.” At the door he turned. “Remember this,” he added. “When you enter an enemy’s country, never burn your boats behind you. Bad policy.” And with a final nod, the banker was gone.
“Now, what on earth does he mean with his ‘enemy’s country,’ and his ‘burning boats’?” said Edward Cope, with a comical look of despair. “I wish some people would learn to talk plain English.”
CHAPTER VII.
KESTER ST. GEORGE.
Although Lionel Dering had obtained Kester St. George’s address in Paris from Mr. Perrins, he had not yet written to him. He put off writing from day to day, hardly knowing, in fact, in what terms to couch his letter. He could not forget the look he had seen in his cousin’s eyes during their momentary recognition of each other on Westminster Bridge. Were they to be as friends or as enemies to each other in time to come? was the question Lionel asked himself times without number. At last he decided not to write at all, but to wait till Kester should return to England, and then see him in person.
After a fortnight at Park Newton, Lionel ran up to town. As a matter of course, his first visit was to Edith. His second was to Mr. Perrins. From the latter he ascertained that a copy of the codicil had been duly sent to Kester at Paris, but had not yet been acknowledged. Lionel’s next visit was to the Dodo Club, in Pall Mall, of which club he had ascertained that his cousin was a member. “Yes, Mr. St. George was in town—had been in town for some days,” said the hall porter, in answer to his inquiry. “Most likely he would look in at the club in the course of the afternoon or evening.” On the spur of the moment, Lionel sat down and wrote the following note, which he left at the Dodo for his cousin: “Dear Kester, I am in town and should much like to see you. Drop me a line saying when and where I can have the pleasure of calling.”
A few hours afterwards he had the following answer: “Old fellow—Come and breakfast with me to-morrow. Eleven sharp. Shall be delighted to see you.”