“On the contrary, I am very busy to-day.”
“Well, well—reading and signing documents, and all that sort of thing—I could do that too.”
“I shall have to sign about three hundred and forty separate papers.”
“Well—I’d do that in half-an-hour; but if you really are busy, I won’t keep you. I’ll come and dine with you to-day.”
“Don’t give yourself any trouble. I’ll call in and see Hortense myself. You know you needn’t make any difference in your ways for me, and I daresay you couldn’t very well afford it either.”
Van Arlen looked at his brother-in-law as if to ask, “Do you mean to insult me,” but his expression changed as he met the glance of the cheery but penetrating eyes. “Living is dear at the Hague,” he said.
“The more fool you, then, to stay here—and with seven daughters, too! Just listen, Van Arlen,—I have a plan, but I can’t carry it out without your help.”
“My plan is—to make Van Arlen rich.... Where did you get that ridiculous thing?” he suddenly broke off.
“Which?” asked the official—following Prigson’s eye, which was directed to his breast.
“Why—that bit of ribbon. I never heard of your getting it. From Santa Claus, I suppose?”
“I don’t understand you, Prigson; if you mean my Order, I make it a point of honour to wear it, and I don’t like its being made a joke of.”
“A joke, my dear fellow? I have the most fervent respect for all orders of knighthood—especially if they are sent home on St Nicholas’ Eve.... Come in! Beg pardon—I forgot this was _your_ place. Can I stay?”
Van Arlen glanced at the door,—it was only a clerk with documents, and Prigson was suffered to remain while the clerk waited and the official signed.
“This is the sort of thing that goes on all day long.”
“Well—it seems to me you earn your money pretty easily. But say, Van ... I suppose no one can hear us talking here?”
“Well,—it doesn’t matter to me, but I shouldn’t like it on your account,—I want some money.”
Van Arlen drew the palm of his hand across his forehead, and stared at his brother-in-law without answering.
“I’m so fearfully in debt that I don’t want to give the alarm. I should be much obliged if you could let me have those thousand florins I lent you. In a month or two you can have them again, if you want; but I’ve got to live till then, and I have nothing left.”