“There is very little to be done,” he answered. “Our customers are a very quiet set. Most of our accounts are deposits; and our discount business is by no means large. Market days are our heaviest time. The farmers then pay in.”
“What do you call deposit accounts?”
“Accounts that are left in our hands not to be drawn upon without notice. We allow interest on them.”
“And what is interest?”
Here Mr. Spratling uttered a faint groan of laughter. Mr. Curling looked fiercely in his direction, and said, “Interest is a sum of money allowed by us for the use of the moneys left in our hands. The rate is regulated by the Bank of England. But all these things are very simple matters: and I don’t doubt that you will have them at your finger ends in a very short time.”
I must confess that he spoke very nicely; and I felt that if he would only pull that atrocious ring off his forefinger, I might not find him so objectionable as I had feared. Nor was he so plain, now that I examined him closely. He certainly had good eyes and teeth, and there was a delicacy in his hands which even his ring could not deform. But his dress was very clerkly, consisting of a long frock coat, which he wore open, and a waistcoat buttoned up to his throat, scarcely showing a spotted cotton cravat, ornamented with a pin. The back of his head, moreover, was a convexity of black friz. On the other hand, his voice was pleasing, and his manners sufficiently easy.
Before long my uncle bustled into the bank, and on catching sight of me called out in his cheery way, “There you are, Charlie! How are you?” and came behind the counter and shook hands.
“Now,” said he, taking me aside, “what I want to impress upon you is this: master the details of banking as quickly as you can, and try and like your work. Before long I shall hope to be able to convince you that it will be well worth your while to apply yourself. In reality there is very little to learn. The mere clerkly portion of the business is nothing; any ploughboy could be taught it in a week. The banker’s real needs are, a good address, thorough amiability, a high sense of honour, and a good knowledge of human nature. You understand?”
“Perfectly; and I may hope that I am not deficient in some of the qualifications you speak of.”
“Indeed you are not. Where you are at present wanting, is in what I must call practicality. You will have to fight against some difficult prejudices which you have brought with you out of your life in Longueville. But,” he continued, clapping me on the shoulders, “in spite of some little weaknesses, there is enough in you to persuade me that you will do very well.” He then went into his private room.