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A chairman, like Caesar's wife, should be above suspicion. So I shall only buy up just enough, now and again, to let people see I, at least, have no doubt as to the firm future of Cloetedorps." He went home that night, more harassed and ill than I have ever seen him. Next day was as bad. The slump continued, with varying episodes.
A yard or two farther a broker paused in front of us. "Halloa, Sir Charles!" he called out, in a bantering tone. "What's all this about diamonds? Where are Cloetedorps to-day? Is it Golconda, or Queer Street?" Charles drew himself up very stiff. "I fail to understand you," he answered, with dignity. "Why, you were there yourself," the man cried. "Last night at Sir Adolphus's!
Some people told us of the exciting news in confidential whispers; some proclaimed it aloud in vulgar exultation. The general opinion was that Cloetedorps were doomed, and that the sooner a man cleared out the less was he likely to lose by it. Charles strode on like a general; but it was a Napoleon brazening out his retreat from Moscow. His mien was resolute.
You ought never to have imitated any real person. I happened to glance at the hotel tape just now, to see the quotations for Cloetedorps to-day, and what do you think I read as part of the latest telegram from England? 'Mr. Algernon Coleyard, the famous poet, is lying on his death-bed at his home in Devonshire. By this time all New York knows. Don't stop one minute.
"Seymour Wentworth," he said, in his most solemn voice, "you have lived with me for years and had every advantage. You have seen high finance. Yet you ask me that question! It's my belief you will never, never understand business!" How much precisely Charles dropped over the slump in Cloetedorps I never quite knew. But the incident left him dejected, limp, and dispirited.
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