dropped in arrear. Being a member of the
Oriental and the Conservative Clubs, I managed
to pass my forenoons pretty quickly. By the
time I had breakfasted, smoked my cheroot
as I walked through the Park to Hanover-
square or St. James's-street, it was always
past twelve o'clock. Once at the club, I
made a great show of writing a letter or two,
read the papers, had some lunch, talked over
the villanies of Sir Charles Wood, and the
financial reforms of Mr. Wilson or Mr. Laing,
with some old Bengal chum, and, before I knew
where I was, the clock pointed to four, at
which hour my wife always called for me in
the brougham, and we went for a drive. A seven
o'clock dinner, a couple of stalls at the theatre
or Opera twice a week, and so to bed, like a
moderate-minded steady-going middle-aged
couple, as we were.

My wife was a capital manager and
housekeeper. Although we lived well, I found at the
end of my first year in England a balance of a
few hundreds remaining in my banker's hands,
over and above my expenditure. Then it was
that my misfortunes really commenced, for
nothing would satisfy me but that this money
should be profitably invested, and I began to
look about for something better than Consols.

Among my oldest Indian friends there was
a certain Colonel Jones, who had retired from the
service some years before I returned to England.
The colonel had— chiefly for want of something to
do—turned his sword into a business-like-looking
umbrella; and, instead of squadrons, drill, and
soldiering, his talk was of shares, the price of
stocks, and rates of discount. The gallant
officer had become a complete City man, and
was, moreover, a successful speculator. A more
honourable or a more truthful man never
breathed. He was a careful calculator, a long-
headed financier, and could see his way ahead,
more clearly than most men who had passed
their whole lives in the atmosphere of business.
More than one old-established bank and
railway connected with India, were glad to have
Colonel Jones upon their respective boards;
and as one good thing in the City generally
leads to another, he could pick, choose, and
refuse.

This gentleman recommended me to look out
for some good concern in which I might purchase
shares, and of which I might, perhaps, in time,
become one of the directors. At the same time
he strongly recommended me not to mix myself
up with any schemes which were untried, or of
which the directors were not of acknowledged
respectability. I wish I had taken his advice!

To a man like Colonel Jones, it is an easy
matter to get upon the board of a really good and
sound company. And if in request with old, he
is doubly so with new companies. He has but
to say the word, and not only will any new
concern be glad to have him, but will also pay him
money, besides qualifying; him with shares, for
joining the direction. The difficulty with a
gentleman so situated is to know what
companies to avoid. With me, the desire to invest
my money was accompanied with an almost
stronger wish to be a director of some
company. Like the famous Colonel Newcome, I
believed myself to be a thorough man of
business—by intuition, as it were— and that I had
only to "go to the City" every day, sit at a
board, and adopt the jargon of mercantile men,
in order to make money. To do him justice,
Colonel Jones endeavoured to induce me to look
more to safety than to a large per-centage in
purchasing shares. With his warnings I ought
to have walked safely, but I fell into the very
first trap that was laid for me.

The Honourable John Fenceman was the
younger brother of a late, and the uncle of an
actual, peer. He was a man of about fifty
years of age; had been, many years ago, in the
Guards; and knew everybody and everything in
London as well as a detective policeman. In
his manners he was gentlemanly, affable, and
never by any chance pushed into notice his
noble birth, nor the handle he had to his name.
He did not affect the manners of a young man,
had a family of grown-up daughters, a home in
one of the best second-rate Tyburnian squares,
dressed as became a paterfamilias, was a
sound Conservative, an exceeding loud
Protestant, and altogether embodied the English
definition of "a most respectable man." I had
known this gentleman some considerable time,
when I discovered that he was in some respects
"a City man;" that is to say, he was member of
more than one board of directors, and daily
walked into the City "on business" of various
kinds.

To the Honourable John Fenceman, then, I
made known my desire to invest what spare
money I had, and of becoming a director upon
any respectable board of a respectable company.
He promised to think the matter over, and to
let me know in a day or two how he could
forward my views. We met at the club almost
every day, and I asked him as often whether
he had yet found what I wanted; but his answer
was invariably in the negative for at least five
or six weeks.

At last I received a note from my friend,
requesting me to meet him at a certain Indian
bank in the City, on important business, at a
certain hour. I did so, and found that he
had at last discovered an affair in which I
could gain honour, emolument, and a
commercial good name, without the slightest risk.
The concern he advised me to join, was, the
Benevolent Insurance Company, of which, as he
said, he himself was about to become a director.

The conditions on which I was to join this
company were as follows: I was to take a
hundred shares—no director was allowed to take
fewer, or the public would have no confidence
in the concern—of twenty pounds each, upon
which ten pounds a share was to be paid.
"You can't possibly lose by it," said the
Honourable John to me; "and to show you in what
estimation I hold the company, I have myself
paid a like amount, and am about to take my
seat at the board."