“No such thing. Do you fancy I cared for those paltry three thousand pounds? I was told you were nephew of Lady Drum; and Lady Drum is grandmother of Lady Jane Preston; and Mr. Preston is a man who can do us a world of good. I knew that they had sent you venison, and the deuce knows what; and when I saw Lady Jane at my party shake you by the hand, and speak to you so kindly, I took all Abednego’s tales for gospel. That was the reason you got the place, mark you, and not on account of your miserable three thousand pounds. Well, sir, a fortnight after you were with us at Fulham, I met Preston in the House, and made a merit of having given the place to his cousin. ‘Confound the insolent scoundrel!’ said he; ‘he my cousin! I suppose you take all old Drum’s stories for true? Why, man, it’s her mania: she never is introduced to a man but she finds out a cousinship, and would not fail of course with that cur of a Titmarsh!’ ‘Well,’ said I, laughing, ‘that cur has got a good place in consequence, and the matter can’t be mended.’ So you see,” continued our Director, “that you were indebted for your place, not to your aunt’s money, but—”
“But to my aunt’s diamond pin!”
“Lucky rascal!” said Brough, poking me in the side and going out of the way. And lucky, in faith, I thought I was.
CHAPTER VIII
RELATES THE HAPPIEST DAY OF SAMUEL TITMARSH’S LIFE
I don’t know how it was that in the course of the next six months Mr. Roundhand, the actuary, who had been such a profound admirer of Mr. Brough and the West Diddlesex Association, suddenly quarrelled with both, and taking his money out of the concern, he disposed of his 5,000l. worth of shares to a pretty good profit, and went away, speaking everything that was evil both of the Company and the Director.
Mr. Highmore now became secretary and actuary, Mr. Abednego was first clerk, and your humble servant was second in the office at a salary of 250l. a year. How unfounded were Mr. Roundhand’s aspersions of the West Diddlesex appeared quite clearly at our meeting in January, 1823, when our Chief Director, in one of the most brilliant speeches ever heard, declared that the half-yearly dividend was 4l. per cent., at the rate of 8l. per cent. per annum; and I sent to my aunt 120l. sterling as the amount of the interest of the stock in my name.
My excellent aunt, Mrs. Hoggarty, delighted beyond measure, sent me back 10l. for my own pocket, and asked me if she had not better sell Slopperton and Squashtail, and invest all her money in this admirable concern.
On this point I could not surely do better than ask the opinion of Mr. Brough. Mr. B. told me that shares could not be had but at a premium; but on my representing that I knew of 5,000l. worth in the market at par, he said—“Well, if so, he would like a fair price for his, and would not mind disposing of 5,000l. worth, as he had rather a glut of West Diddlesex shares, and his other concerns wanted feeding with ready money.” At the end of our conversation, of which I promised to report the purport to Mrs. Hoggarty, the Director was so kind as to say that he had determined on creating a place of private secretary to the Managing Director, and that I should hold that office with an additional salary of 150l.
I had 250l. a year, Miss Smith had 70l. per annum to her fortune. What had I said should be my line of conduct whenever I could realise 300l. a year?