War-time Silhouettes | Page 4

to be, not merely to appear,
distinguished, and he fails because, while the manner is there, the moral
qualities which should support it are not. Though he does not know it,
this failure to realize his own ideal of himself is the fly in the amber.
Sir Matthew was an ambitious man, and believed that all that was
necessary in order to "arrive" was to will it sufficiently. Up to a point
his career supports his theory, but not altogether; for while, considering
where he began, he has climbed to a considerable height, Sir Matthew
is very far from satisfied with his position.
Sir Matthew is wily, but he is not able, and he is exceedingly ignorant;
this ignorance even extends to matters in which he is directly and
personally interested. In most men this defect would have proved an
insuperable obstacle to success, but it has not been so with Sir Matthew
because he is aware of his own shortcomings, and when he can't do a
thing himself he is exceedingly good at getting some one to do it for
him.
Nobody knows anything about his origin, but he began to make his
living at an early age, and while still in the twenties he was doing well
as a bookmaker.
Reggy Dumbarton owed him a good deal more money than he could
ever have paid, so, on reflection, Bale turned his back on bookmaking
and started finance with large plate-glass windows in Threadneedle
Street, and Lord Reginald Dumbarton as junior (very junior) partner.
The Dumbarton connection made the new office a rendezvous for
young bloods whose profession in life it is to induce their friends to
cultivate a taste for speculative investment. The growth of the business
demanding a wider financial knowledge than Bale's bookmaking
experience could supply, his discriminating eye discovered a promising
additional partner in the person of Maurice Blum, who had survived
two startling bankruptcies and an action against him for fraud. Bale,
Dumbarton, and Blum now did so thriving a business that Bale started

an elegantly appointed flat in Mayfair, drove a phaeton and pair (it was
before the days of motors), and was much about town with gentlemen
of family to whom his partnership with Dumbarton afforded a useful
and easy introduction. An indication that at this time he was among the
minor celebrities may be found in the fact that a flattering caricature of
him appeared in Vanity Fair.
When his engagement was announced to Dumbarton's cousin, Lady
Ermyntrude Stanley-Dalrymple, elder daughter of Lord Belfast, a social
personage and a power in the inner councils of the Conservative Party,
it was suggested that there might be some connection between this
rather unexpected event and Lord Belfast's heavy losses on the Stock
Exchange and subsequent directorships and holdings of shares in his
future son-in-law's companies. Whether this supposition was well
founded or not, it can be said with certainty that Bale had secured at
one stroke a footing in society and in politics, for shortly after his
marriage to Lady Ermyntrude his father-in-law found him a safe seat in
Parliament.
Meanwhile Mr. Maurice Blum, who in the absence of his chief partner
had been looking after himself as well as the business, presented an
ultimatum. If Mr. Bale wanted to be a politician, Blum had no
objection, but that meant, at all events at first, spending money instead
of making it, and under the circumstances the terms of the partnership
must be modified.
This was the nastiest blow Bale had yet received. He had regarded
Blum as his creature, and his resentment at what he considered his
partner's treachery was deep. But his prudence and astuteness did not
fail him; he knew Blum's value, and he was aware that even if he were
himself able to spare the time from his political activities, his
knowledge was not sufficient to enable him to manage the growing
business of the firm.
In Bale's view wealth is a necessary accompaniment of distinction. He
longed to be aristocratically indifferent to money, and it humiliated him
that not only was he not rich, but that to keep up the style of living his
position demanded involved no inconsiderable strain. And, as a matter
of fact, his financial position was precarious and depended entirely
upon the fluctuating and speculative income he derived from the
business of Blum & Co. Obviously, therefore, Mr. Maurice Blum was

not a person with whom Bale could afford to quarrel. Wherefore he
mastered his resentment and accepted the change of the name of the
firm to Blum & Co., and the incidental reduction of his income that
change implied with a smile on his face in spite of the bitterness in his
heart.
To a man less adroit than he, the change in the partnership might