The instinct which had made and kept the English Commons the chief power in the State, a feeling that their own world was good enough and a little better than any other because it was their world, had kept the old Forsytes singularly free of “flummery,” as Nicholas had been wont to call it when he had the gout.  Soames’ generation, more self-conscious and ironical, had been saved by a sense of Swithin in knee-breeches.  While the third and the fourth generation, as it seemed to him, laughed at everything.

However, there was no harm in the young fellow’s being heir to a title and estate—­a thing one couldn’t help.  He entered quietly, as Mont missed his shot.  He noted the young man’s eyes, fixed on Fleur bending over in her turn; and the adoration in them almost touched him.

She paused with the cue poised on the bridge of her slim hand, and shook her crop of short dark chestnut hair.

“I shall never do it.”

“‘Nothing venture.’”

“All right.”  The cue struck, the ball rolled.  “There!”

“Bad luck!  Never mind!”

Then they saw him, and Soames said: 

“I’ll mark for you.”

He sat down on the raised seat beneath the marker, trim and tired, furtively studying those two young faces.  When the game was over Mont came up to him.

“I’ve started in, sir.  Rum game, business, isn’t it?  I suppose you saw a lot of human nature as a solicitor.”

“I did.”

“Shall I tell you what I’ve noticed:  People are quite on the wrong tack in offering less than they can afford to give; they ought to offer more, and work backward.”

Soames raised his eyebrows.

“Suppose the more is accepted?”

“That doesn’t matter a little bit,” said Mont; “it’s much more paying to abate a price than to increase it.  For instance, say we offer an author good terms—­he naturally takes them.  Then we go into it, find we can’t publish at a decent profit and tell him so.  He’s got confidence in us because we’ve been generous to him, and he comes down like a lamb, and bears us no malice.  But if we offer him poor terms at the start, he doesn’t take them, so we have to advance them to get him, and he thinks us damned screws into the bargain.

“Try buying pictures on that system,” said Soames; “an offer accepted is a contract—­haven’t you learned that?”

Young Mont turned his head to where Fleur was standing in the window.

“No,” he said, “I wish I had.  Then there’s another thing.  Always let a man off a bargain if he wants to be let off.”

“As advertisement?” said Soames dryly.

“Of course it is; but I meant on principle.”

“Does your firm work on those lines?”

“Not yet,” said Mont, “but it’ll come.”

“And they will go.”

“No, really, sir.  I’m making any number of observations, and they all confirm my theory.  Human nature is consistently underrated in business, people do themselves out of an awful lot of pleasure and profit by that.  Of course, you must be perfectly genuine and open, but that’s easy if you feel it.  The more human and generous you are the better chance you’ve got in business.”