housand down, and two hundred and fifty a month," the young man
replied. "You pay all the expenses, of course."

"Does that include the luncheon with your father and the dinner with
your mother?" Jacob asked.

"It includes everything. Of course, if the governor has a word or two
to say on his own, that's neither here nor there. I want to see you a
bit more ambitious, Pratt," the young man declared, throwing one leg
over the other and lighting a fresh cigarette. "It's the millions that
count, nowadays. Why, there's no reason why you shouldn't marry one of
our 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 for
anything 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, for
your visit, and I have thoroughly enjoyed our conversation. I shall
certainly remember your warning, and as for your offer--well, I'll
think 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 at
Newmarket. I might even get you a few days down at our place in
Norfolk, if you know how to handle a gun."

"I'll consider it," Jacob promised once more. "You'll have to excuse
me 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, Miss
Bultiwell, eh?"

"An acquaintance of some years' standing," Jacob admitted.

"Give her the straight tip," Lord Felixstowe advised earnestly. "Don't
know what she's doing with that crew, anyhow. She seems a different
sort of person altogether. Tell her to cut it out. By-by!"

* * * * *

Jacob found his luncheon companion cold but amiable. He waited until
they were halfway through the meal, and then took his courage in both
hands.

"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