They continued talking some little time, and then Hamish mentioned the matter alluded to in the postscript of the letter. “Is it correct that you will be able to help me to something,” he inquired, “when my father shall resume his own place in Guild Street?”
“It is correct that I told your father so,” answered Mr. Huntley. “I thought then that I could.”
“And is the post gone? I assume that it was a situation of some sort?”
“It is not gone. The post will not be vacant until the beginning of the year. Have you heard that there is to be a change in the joint-stock bank?”
“No,” replied Hamish, looking up with much interest.
“Mr. Bartlett leaves. He is getting in years, his health is failing, and he wishes to retire. As one of the largest shareholders in the bank, I shall possess the largest voice in the appointment of a. successor, and I had thought of you. Indeed, I have no objection to say that there is not the slightest doubt you would have been appointed; otherwise, I should not have spoken confidently to Mr. Channing.”
It was an excellent post; there was no doubt of that. The bank was not an extensive one; it was not the principal bank of Helstonleigh; but it was a firmly established, thoroughly respectable concern; and Mr. Bartlett, who had been its manager for many years, enjoyed many privileges, and a handsome salary. A far larger salary than was Mr. Channing’s. The house, a good one, attached to the bank, was used as his residence, and would be, when he left, the residence of his successor.
“I should like it of all things!” cried Hamish.
“So would many a one, young sir, who is in a better position than you,” drily answered Mr. Huntley. “I thought you might have filled it.”
“Can I not, sir?”