Miss Le Mesurier’s lips instinctively pouted a mischievous ‘bourgeois’ towards Mallinson.  He remarked hastily that he thought the curtain was on the point of rising, and Miss Le Mesurier pushed her opera-glasses towards him with a serene ‘Not yet, I think.’  Mallinson understood the suggestion of her movement and relapsed into a sullen silence.

By the time that Conway and Drake rose to leave the box Mr. Le Mesurier had thought out his idea.  His manner changed of a sudden to one of great cordiality; he expressed his pleasure at meeting Drake, and shook him by the hand, but destroyed the effect of his action through weakly revealing his diplomacy to his daughter by a triumphant glance at her.

At the close of the performance he met Drake in the vestibule of the theatre and lingered behind his party.  Fielding, Mallinson, and Conway meanwhile saw Miss Le Mesurier into her carriage.

‘What in the world is papa doing?’ asked Clarice.

‘Exchanging cards with Drake,’ replied Fielding.  Mallinson turned his head round quickly and beheld the two gentlemen affably shaking hands again.  Conway bent into the carriage.

‘Do you like him?’ he asked.

‘Oh yes,’ she replied indifferently.

‘Then I am glad I introduced him to you,’ and some emphasis was laid upon the ‘I.’

Mr. Le Mesurier came out to the brougham and the coachman drove off.

‘I like that young fellow, Drake,’ he said, with a wave of the hand.  ’I have asked him to call.’

Clarice did not inform her diplomatic father that unless she had foreseen his intention she would have undertaken the discharge of that act of courtesy herself.

Mallinson took a hansom and drove straight from the theatre to his chambers in South Kensington, Conway walked off in the opposite direction, so that Drake and Fielding were left to stroll away together.  They walked across Leicester Square towards St. James’s Street, each occupied with his own thoughts.  Fielding’s were of an unusually stimulating kind; he foresaw the possibility of a very diverting comedy, to be played chiefly for his amusement and partly for Miss Le Mesurier’s, by Clarice herself, Drake, and Mallinson.  From the clash of two natures so thoroughly different as those of the two men, played off against one another with all the delicate manipulation of Miss Le Mesurier’s experienced hand, there was much enjoyment to be anticipated for the purely disinterested spectator which he intended to be.  Of the probable denouement he formed no conception, and in fact avoided purposely any temptation to do so.  He preferred that the play should unroll itself in a series of delightful surprises.  The one question which he asked himself at this time was whether Drake might not decline to act his proper and assigned part.  He glanced at him as they walked along.  Drake looked thoughtful, and was certainly silent; both thought and silence were propitious signs.  On the other hand, Drake had interests in the City, had them at heart too, and, worse still, had the City itself at heart.