"Good afternoon, gentlemen," I said, seating myself in a vacant chair at the head of the table.
There was a chorus of "Good afternoon, Mr. Northcote," and then a solemn-looking old buffer at my right hand took up a printed paper and began ingratiatingly to explain to me how far the proceedings had gone.
I need hardly say that my ignorance of business is about as profound as it could possibly be. Sitting there with all these eminent exponents of the art regarding me with evident respect and apprehension appealed so forcibly to my sense of humour that it was all I could do to stop myself from bursting into a shout of laughter. However, with a great effort, I managed to retain a befitting gravity, and listened with a sombre frown to my neighbour's exposition. Finally, I nodded my head as though satisfied, and the business of the meeting again proceeded on its normal course.
What that "normal course" precisely was I have neither the ability nor desire to describe. A great deal of it was necessarily double Dutch to me, but I played my part with an impressive air of understanding that seemed to go down most successfully with my colleagues. Of course I spoke as little as possible, and then only when I was appealed to on some point of dispute. On such occasions I gave my decision with curt firmness, and I found that it was almost invariably accepted without further comment. I began to think the profession of a Financial Magnate was one in which I was peculiarly adapted to shine.
It must have been getting on for half-past five when the proceedings at length terminated. As we left the room, a bald-headed little man who had been exceedingly talkative all through came up to me and inquired whether I would do him the honour of joining him in a glass of champagne. I replied graciously that I had no particular objection, and with evident pride he led the way downstairs to the saloon bar of the hotel.
"Your good health, Mr. Northcote," he said looking at me respectfully over his bubbling glass.
"That same to you," I replied, not to be outdone in politeness.
"A most satisfactory meeting," he went on, setting down his glass; "most satisfactory! Pensford gave a little trouble about those Debentures, but you soon settled him."
"One has to put one's foot down sometimes," I observed firmly.
"Yes, yes. Quite so, Mr. Northcote; quite so!" Then he paused. "I was wondering," he added, a little nervously, "whether you could possibly give me a tip of any kind about those new South American Goldfields."