He took the letter of introduction to Mr Jackson. This gentleman was affability itself. Mrs Hargrave’s introduction was quite sufficient. Guy was too much a gentleman to put searching questions as to Jackson’s private knowledge of the Hargraves, husband and wife.
On his side, Mr Jackson had the private dossier of every eligible young man, from the moneylender’s point of view, entered in his reference book. He knew all about the Earl of Saxham, and the Lady Henrietta. Young Mr Rossett was quite a desirable client. He was pleased to add him to his list.
As a matter of fact, the loan was quite a small one, and was granted on reasonable terms. There was no speculative element in the transaction. Guy was a young man who might make a mistake now and again, but he would never kick over the traces for long, and he was as straight as a die.
On this particular morning, Mr Jackson received him with the greatest affability.
“Delighted to see you, Mr Rossett. Too early for a drink, I am afraid, but have a cigar.”
He pushed across a box of cigars that even a Spanish Jew could not have bought under half a crown apiece.
“Now, what is it, Mr Rossett? Just a little more ready, I suppose?”
Guy bit off the end of the very excellent cigar with a composed air. He had not the appearance of a suppliant for financial favours.
“Not quite as bad as that, Mr Jackson. But I have a bill for six hundred due next month. It would be a great convenience to me if you would renew half when it falls due, of course on the usual terms.”
For a moment, Mr Jackson’s face fell. He had hoped he was going to get deeper into the young man’s ribs, looking forward to that blessed day when Lady Henrietta’s fortune would wipe off all arrears.