"What is the name of your friend?" inquired Tomlinson.
"Mr. Chichester—Arthur Chichester," was the reply.
"Chichester—Chichester," said the stock-broker, musing; "surely I have heard you mention that name before? Ah! now I remember! Did you not complain to me a few days ago that he had been making mischief between you and a certain Sir Rupert Harborough?"
"I did," answered Greenwood; "and I certainly had good cause for anger against this same Arthur Chichester. But I had become his confidant and adviser in a certain affair a few weeks before I discovered that he had acquainted Sir Rupert Harborough with circumstances which he had better have kept to himself; and I am therefore compelled to continue my assistance and counsel to him until the affair alluded to be brought to a successful termination. Besides, as Sir Rupert and I have settled our little differences, there is no use in bearing malice, especially when something is to be gained by forbearance."
"I thought you would make that admission," said Tomlinson, laughing. "Well, I shall see your friend, and if, with safety, I can earn five hundred pounds, certainly, in my position, I cannot afford to lose such an opportunity."
"That is speaking like a reasonable man," observed Greenwood. "Never stick at trifles. What should I be now, if I had hesitated at every step I took? Should I possess a hundred thousand pounds in good securities? should I be enabled to gratify every wish, caprice, or desire, whose object money can accomplish? should I be the representative of one of the most independent and intelligent constituencies in England? Ah, my dear fellow, think of me and my position when you hesitate; and always make money after the well-authorised system—honestly, if you can; but, at all events, make money."
With these words, Mr. Greenwood took his departure.
"Yes," mused Tomlinson, when he was alone once more, "that man is right! Make money, honestly, if you can; but, at all events, make money. That is the burden of his song; why should it not be the chorus of mine? When I look around me, I see every one making money upon the same plan. Sheriff Popkins does not hesitate to lend his name to a bubble; and Alderman Spiff concocts one! And they are men of reputation—holding important offices—appearing at Court—wielding power—exercising influence. This is indeed a wide field for contemplation. Why, Greenwood, in his bold, dashing manner, gains more in a day than I, in my miserable, droning fashion, earn in a month. To be afraid to touch the gold that is thrown in one's way in this wonderful city, is to be a coward—a very coward. Yes—I see it all! Greenwood is right. Make money—honestly, if you can; but, at all events, make money!"
Mr. Tomlinson's soliloquy had arrived at this very pleasing conclusion, just as the door of his office opened, and a clerk entered to acquaint his master that a gentleman of the name of Chichester desired to speak to him.
"Show Mr. Chichester in," said Tomlinson.