From the Angle of Seventeen

by Eden Phillpotts

I instantly went out to look at the ledge mentioned by Mr. Blades, and the sight of it impressed me enormously. You would have thought a bird would have hesitated to walk along it.

“He must be a great man,” I said, “and have a nerve of iron.”

“He has,” assented Mr. Blades. “And he has a wide grip of politics, too; he is a keen debater and will set some of your ideas right on many subjects. He understands capital and labour and such like; which you do not.”

I admitted this, and then asked about the remarkable points of Mr. Walter.

“Walter is a ray of sunshine,” answered Mr. Blades. “He has a nature none can resist, and is the most popular man in the office. He is a most humorous man and will make you die of laughing. He has two brothers on the professional stage, and he is for all practical purposes a professional actor himself; but he thinks two brothers on the regular stage are enough. He plays parts in public, however, and is a comedian who has nothing left to learn. If he chokes you off this nonsense about the stage, it will be a good thing done.”

I could hardly believe my ears, for Mr. Blades described just such a man as I hungered to know. Whether he would be interested in an utter beginner was, of course, only too doubtful; but, as Mr. Blades said that he was like a ray of sunshine, I hoped with a great hope that he would shine on me a little if he had time.

My impatience for Monday to come was so extreme that during Sunday I took the opportunity to go down to Trafalgar Square and look at the outside of our West-End Branch. Trafalgar Square is naturally too well known to need any lengthened description from me; but I may mention that the National Gallery stands on one side, and our West-End Branch on the other, with Nelson’s Monument between them. Nothing else really matters.

Our premises were stately without ostentation, and richly but not gaudily decorated. The entrance was hidden under a shutter of iron, and the windows were also concealed in the same manner. The building ascended to some rather striking architectural details at the top and was, upon the whole, an imposing pile, though without the gloomy grandeur of the Head Office in Threadneedle Street, E.C.

Punctually to time, I arrived on the following morning, and was greeted with the utmost friendliness. The Manager of this most important Branch was called Mr. Harrison, and I consider that he was the most dignified man I had yet beheld in the flesh. For pure dignity it would have been difficult to find his equal. He said little, but pursued the even tenor of his way and controlled the great business of the Branch with a skill begot of long practice. He was slightly bald, very handsome, and very thoughtful. His thoughts were, of course, hidden from the staff, as a rule, but he was a most popular Chief, and everybody took a pride in doing what he wished with the utmost possible celerity. He did not rule by fear; but by his great dignity and aristocratic manner. He was never flustered, never excited and never annoyed; and this fine manner, of course, left its mark on the whole of the West-End Branch. In fact, I found there was a different atmosphere here, and the staff looked at life from rather a new point of view. I felt my mind broadening from the moment I arrived. The men all had such wide ideas. This, no doubt, was owing to the proximity of Buckingham Palace to some extent; also the Houses of Parliament and the National Gallery. It is true that I was next door to the Bank of England in the City, and that, in its way, enlarges the mind on financial subjects; but to be in a place where Queen Victoria might drive past the window at any moment, and yet leave the staff perfectly cool and collected, was very impressive. In fact, there was an element of awe.

Mr. Bright proved to be my personal Chief, and indicated my work with affability combined with speed. He was a very masculine man, with blue eyes of extraordinary brightness, and a genial manner of tolerant amusement at life in general, that doubtless concealed immense experience of it. He was fair and athletic, and had a most unusual way of coming to the heart of a matter and not wasting words. He feared nothing, and his knowledge of his official duties was, of course, supreme. But he carried it lightly.