The Osbornes by E.F. Benson — Read

Though it was true that Claude's kindness in lending Austell his flat did not cost him anything, it conferred a great convenience on his beneficiary, and Jim, who had been living at the Bath Club, had his luggage packed without pause, and wrote the letter of acceptance and thanks to Claude from the flat itself on Claude's writing paper. The letter was quite genuine and heart-felt, or at the least pocket-felt, for Jim had had some slight difference of opinion with his mother on the subject of being seen in a hansom with a young lady who in turn was sometimes seen on the stage, and Eaton Place, where he had meant to spend those weeks, was closed to him. But Claude's flat filled the bill exactly; it was far more comfortable than his mother's house, and there was nothing to pay for lodging, so that it was better than the club.

His satisfaction was complete when he found that Claude had left his cook there, with no instructions whatever except to go on cooking, nor any orders to have catering bills sent to the tenant. So Jim made himself charming to the cook, gave her the sovereign which he had at once found on Claude's dressing table when he explored his bedroom, and said he would be at home for lunch. Plovers' eggs? Yes, by all means, and a quail, and a little _macédoine_ of fruit. And by way of burying the hatchet with his mother, and incidentally making her green with envy (for it would have suited her very well if Claude had offered her the flat, since somebody wanted to take her house), he instantly telephoned asking her to lunch, and mentioned that he was in Mount Street till the end of July. The lunch she declined, and made no comment on the other, but Jim heard her sigh into the telephone. She could not hear him grin.