He explained with detail the necessity for their immediate departure for the other side of the Atlantic. Certain legal formalities which must at once be attended to demanded their presence in England. Foreseeing this, on the day when he had finally felt himself secure as to the identity of his client he had taken the liberty of engaging optionally certain state-rooms on the Adriana, sailing the following Wednesday.
“Subject of course to your approval,” he added politely. “But it is imperative that we should be on the spot as early as possible.” He did not mention that he himself was abominably tired of his sojourn on alien shores, and wanted to be back in London in his own chambers, with his own club within easy reach.
Tembarom's face changed its expression. He had been looking rather weighted down and fatigued, and he lighted up to eagerness.
“Say,” he exclaimed, “why couldn't we go on the Transatlantic on Saturday?”
“It is one of the small, cheap boats,” objected Palford.
“The accommodation would be most inferior.”
Tembarom leaned forward and touched his sleeve in hasty, boyish appeal.
“I want to go on it,” he said; “I want to go steerage.”
“You want to go on the Transatlantic! Steerage!” he ejaculated, quite aghast. This was a novel order of madness to reveal itself in the recent inheritor of a great fortune.
Tembarom's appeal grew franker; it took on the note of a too crude young fellow's misplaced confidence.
“You do this for me,” he said. “I'd give a farm to go on that boat. The Hutchinsons are sailing on it--Mr. and Miss Hutchinson, the ones you saw at the house last night.”
“I--it is really impossible.” Mr. Palford hesitated. “As to steerage, my dear Mr. Temple Barholm, you--you can't.”
Tembarom got up and stood with his hands thrust deep in his pockets. It seemed to be a sort of expression of his sudden hopeful excitement.
“Why not” he said. “If I own about half of England and have money to burn, I guess I can buy a steerage passage on a nine-day steamer.”
“You can buy anything you like,” Palford answered stiffly. “It is not a matter of buying. But I should not be conducting myself properly toward you if I allowed it. It would not be--becoming.”
“Becoming!” cried Tembarom, “Thunder! It's not a spring bat. I tell you I want to go just that way.”