The Shadow of Great Britain

Arthur glanced at him and slowly folded the newspaper away: "Eld, I want to ask you a question."

"What question?" Eld naturally poured himself a cup of tea from Arthur’s teapot: "If you’re asking about the cost of advertising, I think ten British pounds should be a very fair price."

"The advertising thing is another matter." Arthur took a sip of tea: "I want to ask, what on earth did you buy that new house for? You don’t lack a place to stay, so why do you insist on crashing at my place every day?"

"Why?" Eld shamelessly replied: "Because breakfast at your place is better, and there’s Becky..."

He nodded towards the kitchen: "Her tea is way better than mine."

Becky, who was busy in the kitchen, couldn’t help blushing: "Mr. Carter, you’re flattering me."

"Cut the nonsense." Arthur poured some more milk into his teacup: "Didn’t you buy that house near Piccadilly? It’s not even a five-minute walk to all the clubs. Are you running to my place every day just for a cup of tea?"

"I’m just afraid you’ll get lonely." Eld grinned wider: "Look at this house, three floors up and down, and just you and Becky living here. Isn’t it livelier with more people?"

"Is it because you’re worried about my loneliness or are you hiding from creditors?"

"Creditors?" Eld waved his hand dismissively: "Arthur! What kind of person do you take me for? I’m not a societal scum like Benjamin."

Arthur questioned, "Really?"

Upon hearing this, Eld hesitated briefly before adding, "At least I’m not anymore."

"Is that so?" Arthur clapped mechanically: "That’s really worth celebrating then. Looks like I should find a chance to invite both Charles, Alexander, and Benjamin to throw you a party, celebrating your new lease on life."

"Please don’t!" Eld sighed, finally confessing: "Alright, since you insist on knowing the truth, I’ll tell you. Initially, I bought the house because I wanted to live a respectable life..."

"Respectable?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly!" Eld spread his hands with a wry smile: "You know, I’m now the deputy director at the Hydrographic Office, so I need to leave people with a decent impression. When people hear Mr. Carter has a house in Piccadilly, they think I’m doing quite well. But if I actually move in, things get complicated."

"How so?"

"You’d have to hire staff." Eld counted on his fingers: "Firstly, an experienced housekeeper, since they’re the face of the household. Not considering room and board, the salary alone is at least 35 to 40 pounds a year, plus various allowances. Next, a male servant, excluding living costs, 30 pounds a year. A cook would be at least 18 pounds, and she’d need a maid to help with chores, adding another 10 pounds."

He paused, smiling wryly as he continued: "And of course, if you want to maintain respectability at Piccadilly, you’d need a decent four-wheeled carriage. I have that covered, with the Brougham Carriage still available. But if I use it frequently, the annual upkeep and tack replacement costs about 60 to 70 pounds, plus the coachman’s salary, vet bills, feed... it roughly totals 120 pounds a year."

Arthur exhaled softly, creating ripples in his teacup: "So, to make others think you’re a respectable gentleman, you can’t save even one penny from your salary at the Navy Department?"

"Pretty much." Eld shrugged helplessly: "And that’s without counting hosting expenses, newspaper subscriptions, club fees, Christmas bonuses for the servants... if you add all those, my entire salary wouldn’t even cover it."

"So you shamelessly stay at my place and owe rent without feeling any psychological burden?"

"Oh, don’t make it sound so bad, Arthur. I’m not exactly defaulting on the rent."

"What do you call it then?"

"It’s called temporarily taking advantage of a friend’s hospitality."

Arthur continued sipping tea: "I really should find a girl from a good family for you at a social ball, let you live off them."

Eld retorted righteously: "Arthur! I’m not the kind of person Benjamin is!"

"You’re not Benjamin?" Arthur set down his teacup: "Eld, can’t and won’t are two different things, and I think you might belong to the former."

Eld declared with integrity: "I think you might be mistaken, Arthur. Although we’re friends, I, Eld Carter, as a Royal Medal recipient, must point out the factual errors in your statement."

"I should never have let Her Majesty the Queen award you that medal."

"If I hadn’t gotten that medal and only Charles the baldy did, wouldn’t that be a complete sham? Then what value would the Royal Society’s medal have?"

Arthur looked at Eld, radiating self-confidence, unsure of how to evaluate this "most valuable" Royal Medal recipient in history.

But Eld didn’t care; he felt his award was well-deserved and undeniable. Of course, he didn’t deny that his friend Sir Arthur Hastings indeed played a significant role in his award.

But everyone knows, connections are sometimes an indispensable part of one’s abilities.

Would Darwin, a Cambridge University alumni, getting the Royal Medal be the same as Carter, a University of London alumni, receiving one?

From this perspective, maybe Eld’s viewpoint isn’t wrong.

To ensure his research path continues further, Eld believes it’s necessary to constantly help and motivate his friend, Sir Arthur Hastings. Of course, motivation is the main focus. Given his current ability, he can’t really offer much direct help.

Eld asked with a grin: "By the way, Arthur, didn’t Her Majesty the Queen give you permission to join her on a vacation to Brighton last night?"

Arthur nodded nonchalantly: "There is such a thing. Her Majesty was very satisfied with the performance last night, and she felt I was in poor health, so she specially allowed me to use the Royal family’s royal retreat in Brighton."

Upon hearing this, Eld couldn’t control his expression: "Well... you know, I’m not saying I have to go with you, but... I mean, but if you insist on having me accompany you, I could..."

Before Eld could finish, Arthur raised his hand to indicate for him to stop: "Brighton is definitely on the agenda, but before that, I need to settle the matters entrusted to me by the Home Office."

"The matters entrusted by the Home Office?" Eld’s face fell: "How dare the Home Office! They’re planning to defy Her Majesty the Queen’s orders!"

"I don’t know if the Home Office dares to defy Her Majesty’s orders," Arthur took a sip of tea: "But from the standpoint of national stability, I must extinguish any possibility of radicals causing trouble at the Liszt concert in London."