CHAPTER XVIII
Jacob, on his return from the telephone, found to his surprise afamiliar figure seated before the piano in the long drawing-room, anapartment more picturesque than ever now in the shaded lamplight, withits faded yellow satin furniture, its amber hangings, and its quaintperfume of bygone days. Lady Mary came to meet him.
"You see what I have done for you," she whispered.
"Miss Bultiwell!"
Lady Mary nodded.
"You'll have to be careful, though," she warned him. "I can see thatthere has been some trouble--that the course of true love hasn't beenrunning exactly as it should."
"I told you that," Jacob reminded her dismally. "I am beginning tobelieve that she hates me."
"Not she," was the cheerful reply. "Look here, mother's gone into thehousekeeper's room for a moment. Dad and Mr. Montague are adding uphow much they have made out of you. You slip out on to the terracethere, before she turns around, and I'll bring her out directly."
Jacob did as he was directed, and, with the echoes of Sybil's songstill in his ears, stepped out on to a wide balcony and stood lookingover the tops of the lime trees towards Buckingham Palace. Presentlythere was a rustle of skirts, the sound of voices, and the two girlsappeared. Sybil stopped short when she saw Jacob, but Lady Mary stoodin the way of her retreat.
"You know Mr. Pratt, don't you?" she asked carelessly. "I thought so.Miss Bultiwell's a perfect dear," she continued, turning to Jacob."She comes across the Square and sings to me sometimes after dinnerand even condescends to play my accompaniments. You've no idea what atax that is upon any one's good nature."
"I understood that you were to be alone this evening," Sybil remarked.
"But we are alone--practically," Lady Mary declared. "I am sure youwouldn't count Mr. Montague, and Mr. Pratt is an old friend.--Onemoment, there's my mother calling. Don't move, either of you, or weshall have to sit in that stuffy drawing-room all the evening."
They were alone, and Jacob found it exceedingly difficult to think ofanything to say.
"I had no idea that you were _persona grata_ in this household," Sybilremarked coldly.
"I'm not--if it means what it sounds as if it did," Jacob replied. "Iam asked here because I am very rich and because the Marquis isinterested in money-making schemes. Do you like being a nurserygoverness?"
"I hate it!"
"Worse than giving dancing lessons?"
"You needn't rub it in. That was just an unfortunate episode."
"Unfortunate, you call it?"
"Unfortunate," she repeated, "for if those two men had been half asclever as I thought they were, they wouldn't have bungled the matter,and I should have been able to make a real start in life."
"With my money?"
"Yes, but not given by you. Taken from you!"
"Miss Bultiwell," Jacob asked wistfully, "are you never going to getrid of this ridiculous prejudice against me?"
"Never!"
"You know--that I admire you more than any one else in the world?"
"I am glad to hear it, if it makes you uncomfortable."
"It makes me unhappy."
"Then I'm glad you find me attractive," she declared. "I only wish Ihad really beautiful clothes and were far better looking. Then youmight suffer more."
"Some day," he said, drawing nearer to her, "you will try me toohigh."
She laughed scornfully.
"Are you trying to threaten me?"
He came nearer still. His hand rested against the wall, within a fewinches of her. Her lips were a little parted, but her eyes flashed.
"What do you mean?" she demanded. "How dare you come so near to me!"
His eyes met hers steadily.
"I am going to propose," he told her. "I can't from the other side ofthe balcony."
"Propose!" she repeated contemptuously.
"Will you marry me please, Sybil?" he asked.
"Will I--"
"I think you will some day," he went on. "It would make things simplerif you'd say 'yes' now."
She was speechless. For the first time Jacob felt that he had scored.Perhaps it was not altogether to his disadvantage that at that momenta footman stepped out on to the balcony with a small package for him.Sybil slipped away and Jacob followed her into the room. Lady Marylooked up from the piano.
"One more song, Miss Bultiwell?" she suggested.
"If you will excuse me," Sybil replied, "I must go home now."
"Must you?" Lady Mary murmured, "Mr. Pratt will see you across theSquare."
"Quite unnecessary, thank you," was the curt rejoinder.
"Besides, we rather want Mr. Pratt," the Marquis, who had just madehis appearance, intervened. "James can step across with MissBultiwell."
Sybil moved quickly towards the door.
"Please don't let any one stir," she begged. "It is barely a hundredyards and I much prefer going alone."
Lady Mary got up from the piano and detained Jacob as he turned tofollow the other two men.
"Mr. Pratt," she asked, "how did you contrive to offend MissBultiwell?"
"I refused to put some money into her father's business," heexplained. "Her father was hopelessly bankrupt and tried to palm off afalse balance sheet on me. He afterwards shot himself. It wasunfortunate, but I cannot see that I was to blame."
Lady Mary sighed.
"Of course," she said, "I feel I am being rather generous in trying tohelp you, because I am beginning to rather like you myself."
"There doesn't seem to be anything against your encouraging thefeeling," Jacob replied, with a rather sad twinkle in his eyes. "Idon't think Sybil will ever have me."
She made a little grimace.
"I don't like being a second choice," she confessed. "Couldn't you getto like me best?"
"What about the other fellow?"
"He's coming in with Jack in a few minutes," she said. "I must ask himabout it. I think I shall tell him that my affections are wavering."
"As soon as the coast is clear," Jacob began,--
"Humbug!" she interrupted. "Go down and be fleeced."
* * * * *
The scene was laid when Jacob reached the library. He slipped into thevacant chair and accepted the pen which the Marquis handed to him.
"Leave the cheque open, please," Mr. Dane Montague begged. "We have tohand the money over in cash to-morrow morning."
"Certainly," Jacob assented. "By the bye, will you let me have onemore glance at the undertaking to sell?"
"You can read it through as many times as you like," the otherreplied, producing it. "It's as tight a contract as can be drawn. Thelawyer's letter proves that."
Jacob nodded, and, spreading the document out, tapped it with the endof his penholder.
"There is just one thing omitted which I think should be in," he said.
"What's that?" Mr. Montague demanded.
"Well, I think you ought to add 'Leicester Square' after the EmpressMusic Hall," Jacob pointed out. "Curiously enough, there happens tobe another Empress Music Hall in Shoreditch, the proprietor of whichspells his name P-e-t-e-r. I looked it up in the telephone directoryjust now."
There was a cold and ominous silence. Mr. Montague breathed heavily.The Marquis sighed.
"Most unfortunate!" he murmured.
"Most what?" Jacob asked, turning towards him.
"Most unfortunate," the Marquis repeated. "You are the first person,Mr. Pratt, to whom this--er--enterprise has been suggested, who hasseen through our little financial effort."
Jacob was somewhat staggered. He looked across at Montague.
"You're on top again, Pratt," that gentleman conceded gloomily. "Themusic hall in question is the Shoreditch 'Empress.'"
"And do you mean to say," Jacob demanded incredulously, "that you haveinduced the people whose names are on that list to part with theirmoney, believing they are going to acquire an interest in the EmpressMusic Hall in Leicester Square?"
"That's all rig
ht," Montague assented. "It was dead easy. You see,they were mostly the Marquis's friends, toffs, without any head forbusiness, and we swore them to absolute secrecy--told them if theybreathed a word of it, the whole thing would be spoilt."
"But you aren't giving fifty thousand pounds for the ShoreditchEmpress?"
The financier laughed scornfully.
"Not likely! That's where the Marquis and I make a bit. We haveanother agreement with Peter, who's a pal and a white man, to buy theplace for fifteen thousand. Then we've an arrangement--"
"You needn't go on," Jacob interrupted. "I can quite see that thereare plenty of ways of working the swindle."
"Swindle?" his host repeated, with a pained expression. "My dear Mr.Pratt!"
"Why, what else can you call it?" Jacob protested.
The Marquis coughed.
"It is only lately," he said, "that, with the assistance of Mr. DaneMontague, I have endeavoured to supplement my income in this fashion.I do not understand the harshness of your term, Mr. Pratt, as appliedto this transaction. I have little experience of city life, but I havealways understood that money was made there, in financial and StockExchange circles, by buying from a man something which you knew wasworth more money, selling it to another and--er--pocketing thedifference. Surely this involves a certain amount of what a puristwould call deceit?"
"On the contrary," Jacob pointed out, "that is a fair bargain, becausethe two men have different ideas of the value of a thing, and eachbacks his own opinion."
"But there are surely many cases," the Marquis argued, "in which theseller knows and the buyer does not know? Is it incumbent on theseller to impart to the buyer his superior knowledge? I think not.Without a doubt, business in the city is conducted on the generallines of the man knowing the most making the most. I look upon ourlittle transaction as being exactly on parallel lines. We knew thatthe Shoreditch Music Hall was meant. The people who advanced the moneythought that the Leicester Square Music Hall was meant. Therefore, wemake the money."
Jacob rose to his feet. He was feeling a little dazed.
"Your ideas of commercial ethics, Marquis," he acknowledged, "areexcellent in their way, but do you imagine that they will be shared bythe members of your family who have parted with their money?"
"I trust, sir," the Marquis replied stiffly, "that they will behavelike sportsmen and see the humour of the transaction."
"I hope they will!" Jacob murmured fervently, as he took his leave.
"In any case," the Marquis concluded complacently, "their cheques havebeen cashed."