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Updated: June 12, 2025
Brownbee, with a little bow, clasped his hat to his breast and moved towards the door. The nine gentlemen followed. Mr. Ventnor, bringing up the rear, turned and looked back. But the old man's eyes were already closed again. The moment his creditors were gone, old Heythorp sounded the hand-bell. "Help me up, Mr. Farney. That Ventnor what's his holding?" "Quite small. Only ten shares, I think."
Farney said you didn't wish to be disturbed, sir." "Very good of him. Give me my hat and coat." "Yes, sir." "Thank you. What time is it?" "Six o'clock, sir." "Tell Mr. Farney to come and see me tomorrow at noon, about my speech for the general meeting." "Yes, Sir." "Good-night to you." "Good-night, Sir."
Crumpling the two letters into the pocket of his dressing-gown, he said: "Help me up; and telephone to Mr. Farney to be good enough to come round." .... An hour later, when the secretary entered, his chairman was sitting by the fire perusing the articles of association.
Why didn't Farney or one of those young fellows come and help him up? To call out was undignified. But was he to sit there all night? Three times he failed, and after each failure sat motionless again, crimson and exhausted; the fourth time he succeeded, and slowly made for the office. Passing through, he stopped and said in his extinct voice: "You young gentlemen had forgotten me." "Mr.
Young Farney, though a secretary, was capable of attachment; and his eyes expressed a pitying affection. The Board meeting had been long and "snadgy" a final settling of that Pillin business. Rum go the chairman forcing it on them like this!
And his sacrifice of the uneaten souffle, the still less eaten mushrooms, the peppermint sweet with which he usually concluded dinner, seemed to consecrate that purpose. They all thought he was a hulk, without a shot left in the locker! He had seen a couple of them at the Board that afternoon shrugging at each other, as though saying: 'Look at him! And young Farney pitying him. Pity, forsooth!
It might be a harder job this time, but he was in luck in luck, and it must hold. And taking a luxurious pull at his cigar, he rang the handbell. "Bring 'em in here, Mr. Farney. And let me have a cup of China tea as strong as you can make it." "Yes, sir. Will you see the proof of the press report, or will you leave it to me?" "To you." "Yes, sir. It was a good meeting, wasn't it?"
The family name was originally spelt Farney, but afterwards, in Alsace, where the German language is generally spoken, was changed to Forney. Here his father died, leaving him an orphan when four years old. At the age of fourteen he left Alsace and went to Amsterdam in Holland.
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