"A pound a week and his lunch money, probably," Kendrick replied. "I don't think he'll earn it," his fond mother said sadly. "However, that's your business. Don't forget you're dining with me Sunday night, John. I'll ask Josephine, too, if you succeed in making friends with her. She's a little difficult, but well worth knowing.--Dear me, I wish people would begin to go! I wonder whether they realise that it is nearly six o'clock." "I shan't stir a yard," Sarah declared, "until I have had another ice. Jimmy, run and fetch me one." "My family would be the last to help me out," Lady Amesbury grumbled. "I'm ashamed of the whole crowd of you round here. Roger, you and Mr. White are disgraceful, sitting and drinking whiskies and sodas and enjoying yourselves, when you ought to have been walking round the gardens being properly bored." "I came to enjoy myself and I have done so," Kendrick assured her. "To add to my satisfaction, I have met my biggest client--at least he is my biggest client when he feels like doing things." "Do you feel like doing things now, Mr. Wingate?" Sarah ventured. Maurice White held out his hands in horror. "My dear young lady," he exclaimed, "such questions are absolutely impossible! When a man comes on to a market, he comes on secretly. There are plenty of people who would give you a handsome cheque to hear Mr. Wingate's answer to that question." "Any one may hand over the cheque, then," Wingate interposed smilingly, "because my answer to Miss Baldwin is prompt and truthful. I do not know." "Of course," Lady Amesbury complained, "if you are going to introduce a commercial element into my party--well, why don't you and Maurice, Roger, go and dance about opposite one another, and tear up bits of paper, and pretend to be selling one another things?--Hooray, I can see some people beginning to move! I'll go and speed them off the premises." She hurried away. Sarah drew a sigh of relief. "Somehow or other," she confessed, "I always feel a sense of tranquility when my aunt has just departed." Josephine rose to her feet. "I think I shall go," she decided, "while the stock of taxicabs remains unexhausted." "If you will allow me," Wingate said, "I will find you one." Their farewells were a little casual. They were all, in a way, intimates. Only Kendrick touched Wingate on the shoulder. "Shall I see you in the City to-morrow?" he asked. "About eleven o'clock," Wingate suggested, "if that is not too early. There are a few things I want to talk to you about." "Where shall I send my card?" Sarah called out after him. "The Milan Hotel," he replied, "with terms, please." She made a little grimace. "Terms!" she repeated scornfully. "An American generally pays what he is asked." "On the contrary," Wingate retorted, "he pays for what he gets." "Your address?" Wingate asked, as he handed Josephine into a taxicab. "Dredlinton House, Grosvenor Square," she answered. "You mustn't let me take you out of your way, though."