"I don't like it," said Joseph. "It's just handing over our business to someone else's control."
"But you haven't heard the best part," Hugh said. "All of Madler and Bell's European business, currently distributed among several agents in London, would be handed over to Pilasters."
Joseph grunted in surprise. "That must amount to ..."
"More than fifty thousand pounds a year in commissions."
Hartshorn said: "Good Lord!"
They were all startled. They had never set up a joint venture before and they did not expect such an innovative proposition from someone who was not even a partner. But the prospect of fifty thousand a year in commissions was irresistible.
Samuel said: "You've obviously talked this over with them."
"Yes. Madler is very keen, and so is his partner, John James Bell."
Young William said: "And you would supervise the joint venture from London."
Hugh saw that William regarded him as a rival who was much less dangerous three thousand miles away. "Why not?" he said. "After all, London is where the money is raised."
"And what would your status be?"
It was a question Hugh would have preferred not to answer so soon. William had shrewdly raised it to embarrass him. Now he had to bite the bullet. "I think Mr. Madler and Mr. Bell would expect to deal with a partner."
"You're too young to be a partner," Joseph said immediately.
"I'm twenty-six, Uncle," Hugh said. "You were made a partner when you were twenty-nine."
"Three years is a long time."
"And fifty thousand pounds is a lot of money." Hugh realized he was sounding cocky--a fault he was prone to--and he backed off quickly. He knew that if he pushed them into a corner they would turn him down just out of conservatism. "But there is much to be weighed up. I know you'll want to talk it over. Perhaps I should leave you?" Samuel nodded discreetly and Hugh went to the door.
Samuel said: "Whether this works out or not, Hugh, you're to be congratulated on a jolly enterprising proposition--I'm sure we all agree on that."
He looked inquiringly at his partners and they all nodded assent. Uncle Joseph murmured: "Quite so, quite so."
Hugh did not know whether to be frustrated, because they had not agreed to his plan, or pleased that they had not turned it down flat. He had a dispiriting sense of anticlimax. But there was no more he could do. "Thank you," he said, and he went out.
At four o'clock that afternoon he stood outside Augusta's enormous, elaborate house in Kensington Gore.
