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Lunch, too, was all that could be desired. Mrs. Polkington's manners were always gracious, and to-day she had a charming air of taking Richard into the family after having shut all the doors, actual and metaphorical, which led to anything real and personal.
As for Julia, she must have got a situation of some sort unless, which was unlikely, she was with her parents. Rawson-Clew took Mrs. Polkington's address it was all he could get and determined to write to her.
Polkington's letter, but a little crept in almost without the writer's knowledge, enough to rouse Julia's suspicions. Why, she asked herself, was her mother suddenly enamoured with the beauty of Chippendale furniture? And in what way had she become aware what the Ashton's last parlour-maid thought, if she had not engaged that young woman for her own service?
The whole business needed tact and patience, and in the end had not been very satisfactorily arranged; during the process Captain Polkington's name had been mentioned more than once; he figured, among other ways, of spending much and getting little in return.
Nevertheless, she was very angry and quite determined to pay the money somehow, so that at least it should appear to this man that he was mistaken. An hour later she carried Captain Polkington's tea down to him; when tea was in the drawing-room his was always sent to him thus. She found him not depressed at all, on the contrary quite cheerful, and even dignified.
After making a few inquiries at Marbridge into Captain Polkington's history he came to the conclusion that the chance in favour of the true bulb was worth five pounds to him. Accordingly he offered it, indifferent as to the result, but rather anticipating its acceptance. It was accepted. The Captain was mortified and disappointed, but five pounds is five pounds.
That autumn the young Rawson-Clew, Captain Polkington's acquaintance, came into a fortune and took a wife. The latter was, perhaps, on the whole, a wise proceeding, for, though the wife in question would undoubtedly help him in the rapid and inevitable spending of the fortune, she was likely also to enable him to get more for his money than if he were spending alone.
Mijnheer, by her request, had put on his best coat, but he still had his spectacles pushed upon his forehead, as they always were when he was disturbed in the office. There was a formal greeting one never dispensed with that in Holland, then Mijnheer said, "You are, I suppose, a friend of Miss Polkington's father?"
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