“They cannot. But they may whisper--whisper to each other. Why, just consider the convenience. Instead of having to rack their brains for compliments and pretty things and not to find them, instead of hunting for anecdotes and quotations, they just send to me. They get in return a speech just as long as they want--from five minutes to an hour--full of good things! In this way they are able to acquire it at a cheap, that is, a reasonable rate, for next to nothing, considering the reputation of wit and epigram and sparkles. Then think of the company at the dinner. Instead of having to listen to a fumbler and a stammerer and a clumsy boggler, they have before them a speaker easy in his mind, because he has learned it all by heart, bright and epigrammatic. He keeps them all alive, and when he sits down there is a sigh to think that his speech was so short.” “You must give me just such a speech.” “I will--I will. Fred, you shall start with a name that will make you welcome at every City Company’s dinner. It will help you hugely over your enormous transactions for the Firm. Rely on me. Because, you see, when a man has once delivered himself of a good speech, he is asked to speak again: he must keep it up; so he sends to me again. Look here”--he laid his hands upon a little pile of letters--“here are yesterday’s and to-day’s letters.” He took them up and played with them as with a pack of cards. “This man wants a reply for the Army. This is a return for Literature. This is a reply for the House of Commons. The Ladies, the American Republic, Science, the Colonies--see?” “And the pay?” “The pay, Fred, corresponds to the privilege conferred. I make orators. They are grateful. As for yourself, now----” “Mine is a reply for Australia. The dinner is on Friday at the Hotel Cecil--Dinner of Colonial Enterprise.” “Really!” The Agent smiled and rubbed his hands. “This is indeed gratifying. Because, Fred--of course you are as secret as death--I may tell you that this request of yours completes the toast-list for the evening. The speeches will be all--all my own--all provided by the Agent. But the plums, my brother, the real plums, shall be stuffed in yours. I will make it the speech of the evening. Mr. Barlow--Barlow--Barlow of New South Wales.” Fred rose. “Well,” he said, “I leave you to my speech. Come and dine with me to-night at the Hôtel Métropole--half-past seven. We might have a look round afterwards.” They had that dinner together. It was quite the dinner of a rich man. It was also the dinner of one who loved to look upon the winecup. After dinner Fred looked at his watch. “Half-past nine. I say, Chris, about this time we used to sally forth. You remember?” “I believe I do remember. I am now so respectable that I cannot allow myself to remember.”