The fear of a slip had dissuaded McTaggart himself from much talk with Jill on his Sienese inheritance. She knew he had some property there, but, beyond this, very little. Bethune was the only man wholly in the secret. Luckily for McTaggart, it had escaped the papers, filled at that period with a royal marriage. The Scotch side of his character, cautious and reserved, stood him in good stead, and besides this he had a horror of snobism, somewhat rare in these days.
"It seems a pity," he said now, "that honours are so frequent—or rather, I should say, so easily earned. So many splendid men in the past have won them by deeds of heroism, for fine administration and solid work done in the interests of the Empire. Men worthy I mean, without any question of £s.d.
"Of course one knows lots of people—dear people too—who deserve them, every inch—like the Cheltenhams... But when a title's frankly bought, it seems to take away from the dignity of those others and the men to come. There should be a special kind of distinction to mean money—We talk of 'Law Lords'—for instance—why not Finance Lords? And Lords of Silence"—he smiled—"like Fleming. Not the 'Golden Fleece' but the 'Golden Tongue'!"
Lady Leason nodded her head approvingly, engrossed just then with the final process of the coffee.
McTaggart turned to the Bishop.
"By the way," he said, "talking of money, how's that company of yours? I looked up Schliff's record as far as I could, and—as I wrote you—it was hardly reassuring, though I didn't care to say too much in my letter."
"I quite understood"—the Bishop sighed—"in these days it doesn't do. But I was most grateful. I'm afraid the matter is going from bad to worse. I hear privately they're contemplating a call on the shares—five shillings; despite an optimistic speech packed with promises made by Schliff at the General Meeting. And—would you believe it?—only yesterday I came across an old friend I hadn't seen for years—up for this Congress from the North of England—and he'd been buying shares at two pounds apiece! Why, it's simply infamous! Of course he'd taken them from Schliff himself on his advice and they're selling now on the Stock Exchange for nine and sixpence!"
"I can quite believe it." McTaggart smiled. "After all, it's in the interests of the company. You've got to raise money somehow to save it—so the new shareholders are sacrificed for the old."
"Robbing Peter to pay Paul?" the Bishop suggested. "I heartily disapprove of it, and I warned my friend. He's going to see Schliff this afternoon, and I don't envy the latter. He'll meet his match."
"I doubt it—he's pretty thick-skinned! This isn't the first of his financial ventures."