CHAPTER XII
Dauncey accepted his chief's invitation, one morning about a weeklater, when things were slack, to sit in his room and have a chat.
"How goes the dancing?" he enquired, stretching out his hand for acigarette.
"Interesting developments may shortly be expected," Jacob repliedreflectively. "Up to the present, only two of the party have declaredthemselves. Mr. Mason has made propositions to me with regard tofinding the money for starting a night club, and Mr. Hartwell hasoffered me a share in some oil springs in Trinidad."
"A certain lack of imagination about Hartwell's offer," Daunceycommented.
"On the contrary, I thought it rather subtle," Jacob observed. "Yousee, I am supposed to know all about oil, although I really know nomore about it than the man in the moon. And there certainly is oil inTrinidad."
"What about the others?"
"Lady Powers," Jacob confessed, "has shown a flattering desire for myescort to dinner; in fact, I am afraid I am committed to next Sundaynight. It appears that she is in some slight financial trouble andrequires the advice of a man of the world."
"Hm!" Dauncey ejaculated. "What does Miss Bultiwell say to that?"
"I don't think she knows," Jacob admitted, "but I am afraid shewouldn't care if she did. Grace Powers pretends to want to be verysecretive about it, but I fancy that's only to spare my feelings."
"Any other members of the gang?" Dauncey enquired.
"There's that young sprig of fashion, Lord Felixstowe," Jacob replied."I haven't heard from him yet. He is rather a nice boy. And there isMiss Bultiwell herself."
"Have you had any conversation with her?"
"She is lunching with me to-day. I expect I shall get into troubleabout it, but I am going to speak to her plainly about her friends."
"How did she get mixed up with such a crew?"
"She was at school with Grace Powers," Jacob answered, "but I don'tknow how they came together again. She will either tell me thismorning--or she won't."
"And Lord Felixstowe?"
There was a knock at the door. The office boy brought in a card. Jacobglanced at it and smiled.
"His turn appears to have arrived," he said. "You can show LordFelixstowe in."
Dauncey departed, and the visitor entered and proceeded to makehimself at home. Notwithstanding a slightly receding chin and asomewhat weedy frame, he was a personable being, and Jacob stifled asigh of envy as he realised that he would never be able to wear aGuards' tie with his lounge suit. The young man accepted a cigarette.His attitude was distinctly friendly.
"Thought I'd look you up, old thing," he said. "Not much chance of apowwow at Russell Square. As soon as you and I get a word together,that chap Hartwell comes butting in, or else Phil Mason has a bundleof prospectuses to show you. What-ho the giddy night club! What-ho theTrinidad Oil Wells!"
Jacob coughed.
"There is one thing about Russell Square which puzzles me," heconfided, "and that is, except for the people you have mentioned, Iseem to be the only pupil."
Lord Felixstowe smiled knowingly.
"They've got a few old crooks come later in the day," he said. "Thereason you don't meet any one else there is because they like to keepyou to themselves."
"I can't see what they gain by that," Jacob confessed, a littlemystified.
The young lordling assumed the patient air of one having to deal witha person of inferior intelligence.
"Come, come," he remonstrated, "you must know that they're trying tomilk you for a bit. Hasn't Mason suggested your financing his nightclub?"
"Some sort of a proposition was made," Jacob acknowledged. "Ideclined."
"And Hartwell? Has he mentioned some oil wells in Trinidad?"
"He has," Jacob admitted. "I happen to be doing rather well in oils inanother direction."
"You haven't turned up early one day and found Grace in tears with adressmaker's bill on her knee, have you?"
"That, I presume, is to arrive. Lady Powers is dining with me nextSunday."
"Mind your P's and Q's, then," the young philosopher advised. "She's afly little hussy. You see, Pratt, I know the world a bit. Seems to meI might be rather useful to you--in fact that's why I came here thismorning."
"It is very kind of you," Jacob said. "In what way, may I ask?"
"You see," Lord Felixstowe proceeded, hitching up his trousers anddrawing his chair a little nearer, "I know the ropes, Pratt, and youdon't. You're a very decent fellow who's made a pot of money, andnaturally, just at first, you don't know where you are. You want toget on, eh, to know the right sort of people, go to the right sort ofplaces, be seen about with the right sort? Between ourselves, oldthing, Hartwell and Mason aren't the right sort. Suits me to picktheir brains a bit, now and then, when the oof's coming along slowly,but then I can do what I like--you can't."
"Let me have your concrete proposition, Lord Felixstowe," Jacobsuggested, with a faint smile at the corner of his lips.
"Righto! Tell you what I'm prepared to do. I'll pal you up, take youto lunch and dinner at the smart places, take you to the Opera rightnights, and the mater shall ask you to dine once in Belgrave Squareand send you cards for her big shows. Then the governor shall ask youto lunch at his club one day, and if there's anything doing, youtumble, there are a couple of his clubs I think he could put you upfor. You'll be seen about with me. People will ask who you are. Ishall lay it on thick, of course, about the millions, and before youknow where you are, old bean, you'll be hobnobbing with all the dukesand duchesses of the land."
"I see," Jacob murmured. "And what are your terms?"
"A thousand down, and two hundred and fifty a month," the young manreplied. "You pay all the expenses, of course."
"Does that include the luncheon with your father and the dinner withyour mother?" Jacob asked.
"It includes everything. Of course, if the governor has a word or twoto say on his own, that's neither here nor there. I want to see you abit more ambitious, Pratt," the young man declared, throwing one legover the other and lighting a fresh cigarette. "It's the millions thatcount, nowadays. Why, there's no reason why you shouldn't marry one ofour set, if you play your cards properly and drop that other rabble.And look here, old dear, I'll give you a straight tip. You chuck 100,Russell Square. They're too fly, those chaps. I'm looking around foranything there may be to pick up myself, but they're too hot for me."
Jacob glanced at his watch.
"Well," he said, "I'm very much obliged to you, Lord Felixstowe, foryour visit, and I have thoroughly enjoyed our conversation. I shallcertainly remember your warning, and as for your offer--well, I'llthink about it."
The visitor rose reluctantly to his feet.
"It's an offer I wouldn't make to every one, Pratt," he concluded."Just happens I'm rather at a loose end--had a nasty week atNewmarket. I might even get you a few days down at our place inNorfolk, if you know how to handle a gun."
"I'll consider it," Jacob promised once more. "You'll have to excuseme just now. I'm lunching with a young lady--Miss Bultiwell, in fact."
Lord Felixstowe picked up his hat.
"See you later, then," he concluded. "Old friend of yours, MissBultiwell, eh?"
"An acquaintance of some years' standing," Jacob admitted.
"Give her the straight tip," Lord Felixstowe advised earnestly. "Don'tknow what she's doing with that crew, anyhow. She seems a differentsort of person altogether. Tell her to cut it out. By-by!"
* * * * *
Jacob found his luncheon companion cold but amiable. He waited untilthey were halfway through the meal, and then took his courage in bothhands.
"Miss Bultiwell," he began, "I don't like your friends."
"Really?" she said. "I thought you were a great success with them."
"My popularity," he assured her drily, "is waning. I have annoyed Mr.Mason by refusing to find the money for him to start a night club, Mr.Hartwell by not buying some oil wells in Trinidad, and, in a lesser
degree, Lord Felixstowe by not jumping at the chance of engaging himas my social mentor at a somewhat exorbitant salary."
"And Grace?"
"Lady Powers is dining with me on Sunday night," Jacob announced. "Herschemes seem to need a little further formulation."
Sybil bit her lip.
"You are very rude about my friends."
"I am not rude at all, and they are not your friends."
"Surely I know best about that?" she demanded haughtily.
"You do," he admitted, "and you know perfectly well that in your heartyou agree with me and they are not your friends. Every one of them ismore or less an adventurer, and how you found your way into suchcompany I can't imagine."
"When did Grace ask you to take her out to dinner?" she enquiredirrelevantly.
"Lady Powers has been kind enough to suggest it several times," hereplied. "She thinks that it would give me confidence to dance inpublic."
"You have quite enough confidence," Sybil declared, with someasperity, "and as a matter of fact you dance too well to need any morelessons."
"Are you giving up teaching?" he asked.
"That depends."
"You really mean to continue your association with these people? Mind,I am speaking advisedly concerning them. Mason and Hartwell are bothwell-known about town. They are adventurers pure and simple andabsolutely improper associates for you."
"I can take care of myself," Sybil assured him indifferently.
"But you ought not to be seen with such a crowd," he objected.
"Why not? I haven't the slightest objection to being called anadventuress. I want to make money, and so far as money is concerned,I have no conscience. I am a hopelessly incompetent clerk orsecretary, and I am keeping the chorus for a last resource."
"Why should you be an incompetent secretary?" he demanded.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I suppose I haven't the temperament for service. I was dismissed frommy first two situations for what they called impertinence, and I hadto leave the third because all three partners tried to kiss me. Ididn't mind one," she went on reflectively, "but with all three itgrew monotonous."
"Brutes!" Jacob exclaimed fiercely.
"Oh, no, they were quite nice about it," she declared. "It isn't thatI mind being kissed particularly, but I hate it to come into the twopounds a week arrangement. Besides, there is another fatal objectionto my being able to keep any post as a typist."
"What is it?" he asked.
"I simply cannot wear the clothes," she confessed.
He looked puzzled.
"I don't quite understand. You don't have to wear a uniform oranything."
She looked at him pityingly.
"Look at me," she directed. "Now what would you say if I walked intoyour office and asked for a post as typist at two or three pounds aweek?"
"Take you on like a shot," he assured her enthusiastically.
"Don't be silly. I don't mean personally. I am looking upon you as atype. Well, supposing you did take me on, your wife would call down atthe office in a few days, look at me and call you to one side. I canhear her whispering in your ear--'You must get rid of that girl.'"
"And just why?" he asked.
"I suppose you think that I am very plainly dressed?"
"You look very nice," he declared, glancing at her neat black andwhite check tailormade suit, the smart hat, and remembering hisglimpse of her silk stockings and shapely black patent shoes as shehad come down the stairs; "very nice indeed, but you are dressed quiteplainly."
"The ignorance of men!" she sighed. "This costume I have on cost fortyguineas and came from one of the best places in London. My hat costtwelve, and everything else I have on is in proportion. These are thelast remnants of my glory. Well, when I went down to the city, I hadto wear a blue serge costume I had bought ready-made, sort of hybridstockings which I hated, a hat of the neat variety, which means noshape and no style, fabric gloves, and shoes from a ready-made shop. Ifelt, day by day, just as though I were trying to play a hopeless partin some private theatricals. I couldn't breathe. You see, I am not inthe least a heroine. I want the things I've been used to, somehow orother."
"There is another alternative," Jacob ventured.
"You refer, I suppose, to marriage or its equivalent? As it happens,however, I have peculiar views about sacrificing my liberty. I wouldsooner give everything I have to a person I cared for than sell myselfto a person whom I disliked. Isn't that your bill?"
Jacob's fingers trembled a little as he drew out a note and laid itupon the plate.
"I wonder why you dislike me so much," he speculated, as they waitedfor his change.
She contemplated him indifferently.
"Does one discuss those things? Are you coming to Russell Square foryour lesson this afternoon?"
"It scarcely seems worth while," he sighed.
"I think you had better," she said, frowning. "They are expectingyou."
"They?" he repeated.
A little spot of colour burned in her cheeks. She looked away hastily.
"The lady with whom you are going to dine on Sunday night, for one,"she reminded him.
There was a moment's silence. Jacob was perplexed.
"Are you going to be there?" he enquired.
"Yes!"
He glanced at his watch.
"We may as well go together, then," he suggested.
They walked up the stairs to the street, and he handed her into hiscar, which was waiting. On their way to Russell Square she wasunusually silent. At the top of Shaftesbury Avenue she turned to himabruptly.
"Perhaps you had better not come, after all," she said. "I will makeyour excuses to Grace."
"I can take care of myself," Jacob replied.
Her eyes mocked him.
"You are quite sure?"
"Perfectly."
She shrugged her shoulders and made no other remark until they drew upin front of the house in Russell Square. When he would have assistedher to alight, she hesitated once more.
"Listen," she said, speaking with a curious jerkiness. "You were quiteright about Hartwell and Mason. They are adventurers--and they areboth waiting for you inside. They want your money very badly. We allwant it. Now don't you think you had better postpone your lesson?"
Jacob smiled confidently.
"What I have is yours for the asking," he declared. "It will be theirsonly if they can take it."
She suffered him to follow her into the house.
Jacob's Ladder Page 13
