We have been talking shop as usual, Mr. Bateman,” said Lady Severn.
“I wonder if there’s another drawing-room in London where shop and shop
only is talked!”
“To say that shop is talked in a drawing-room is only another way
of saying that the people in that drawing-room never cease to be
interesting,” said Amber. “So long as people talk of what they know they
are interesting and shop is the shortest way of describing what people
understand. So how is your shop, Mr. Bateman?”
“Flourishing,” said Mr. Bateman, with something of a Scotch accent.
“Miss Amber, I bless the day when you suggested that I should take up
the advertising business. I had no idea that it was a business that
required the exercise of so much imagination.”
“Have you made much money to-day?” enquired Amber.
“I think I must hurry away,” said Josephine. “We have a political party
to-night, and I’m tired of seeing Amber’s friends flaunting their wealth
before us. If Mr. Galmyn made eight pounds in the course of the morning
and he is a poet, what must Mr. Bateman have made?”
“And he is a Scotchman,” said Mr. Bateman pleasantly.
“Yes, that finish was in my mind I must confess,” said Josephine. “Do
not be led into dishonesty by any one, Mr. Galmyn; you will be far
happier as a humble lyric poet with the consciousness of being honest
than as a great financier with an imaginary mine up your sleeve.”
“Go away, before you do any further mischief,” cried Amber. “Don’t
believe her, Arthur. If you ever have a gold mine up your sleeve, we’ll
float it between us.”
“And we’ll let Miss West in on the ground floor,” said Arthur. “That’s
another good phrase that I’ve got hold of already. The ‘ground floor.’”
“What does it mean?” asked Lady Severn, when Josephine had left the
room. “Does it mean anything in particular?”
“It means joining a thing at par,” replied Arthur sadly. “Oh, yes! I’m
getting into the swing of the thing. Perhaps I may know what contango
means before another week has gone by.”
“I should dearly like to know what contango means,” said Amber
sympathetically. It was her sympathetic manner that made a word or two
from her change the whole course of certain young lives--for a time. “I
was asking you about your prospects, Mr. Bateman,” she added, turning to
the latest addition to her circle. “I do hope that you are making your
way.”
“Making my way?” said he gravely, and then he gave a little laugh--a
cautious little laugh, as of feeling his way to ascertain how far he
might safely go in the direction of hilarity. “Making my--oh, yes; I
can’t complain. I see a great future for my business if it is developed
on the right lines, and if too many adventurers do not take it up.”
“It requires too much imagination to turn out a success in everybody’s
hands,” said Amber.
“Imagination,” said he. “My dear Miss Amber, it requires nothing but
imagination. In these days advertising is the greatest power that
exists. It is, counting all its branches, the most important British
industry. There’s nothing that cannot be accomplished by discreet
advertising.”
“You can sell a soap by it at any rate,” said Lady Severn.
“Oh, soap selling and pill selling are too easy to need any of the more
delicate methods,” said Mr. Bateman. “Everybody--nearly everybody--wants
soap and no one can live without medicine--some people live on nothing
else. Of course I don’t trouble myself over the rough and tumble
advertising of drugs. As I told you last week I intend to proceed on a
higher plane. I leave posters and sandwich men and other antediluvian
methods for others. I am determined never to forget that I am an artist
and that I was once in a cavalry regiment.”
“Have you struck out anything new since you told us of your scheme for
pushing things on by holding them up to ridicule?” asked Amber.
“Oh, you allude to what I did for the Technical School of Literature.
You know, of course, that I only got that ridiculed into notice because
of the interest you took in it, Miss Amber. But I’ve undertaken to see a
young chap into Parliament by the same means. He is really such a
foolish young man I believe that nothing could keep him out of
Parliament in the long run; but he wants to get in at the next General
Election, so we haven’t much time to spare. I got him to make a
Vegetarian Speech a fortnight ago, and then I arranged with a number of
excellent newspapers to ridicule all that he had said. They are at it
to-day, all over the country.”
“His name is Thornleigh and he said that no one could wear leather boots
and remain a Christian,” cried Amber.
“There, you see,” said Mr. Bateman proudly. “He has already become known
to you--yes, and he shall be known to every man, woman and child
in England. The Vegetarians are taking him up and he’ll become more
ridiculous every day until his name is a by-word. You can’t keep a man
out of Parliament whose name is a by-word throughout the length and
breadth of the country. Then I’ve a young woman who simply wants to get
her name into the papers. It’s marvellous how universal this aspiration
is. Anyhow I think I can promise her a good move.”
“She has only to kill a baby,” suggested Mr. Galmyn in a flash of
inspiration.
“No more brilliant suggestion could be made,” said Mr. Bateman. “But it
does more credit to your heart than to you head, Galmyn, my friend.
If you sit down and give the matter that thoughtful consideration it
deserves, I think you will agree with me that the goal aimed at can be
reached by equally legitimate means and with less risk. I am going
to put up the young woman at the next meeting of the County Council’s
Licensing Committee to oppose the renewal of any singing and dancing
licenses whatsoever. That is the least expensive and most effective way
of pushing forward a nonentity with aspirations. She will soon come to
be looked upon as an intelligent woman, and the newspapers will publish
her opinion upon the conduct of the recent campaign as well as upon the
management of children.”
“You don’t think that you are too sanguine, Mr. Bateman,” suggested Lady
Severn.
“I prefer to understate rather than exaggerate the possibilities of
such a step as I have suggested, Lady Severn,” said Mr. Bateman. “And
moreover I will do my best to prevent my client from writing a novel.
Writing a novel rather gives away the show. Then another client whom I
have just secured to-day is the mother of two very ordinary daughters.
The mother is vulgar and wealthy, and the daughters wear birds in their
toques. They know no one in Society and yet before six months have gone
by you will find that no column of society gossip will be considered
complete that does not contain some reference to their movements, and
they will probably marry baronets--perhaps peers. I have also got on
my books a young American lady, who has set her heart on a peer, poor
thing!”
“Poor thing? does that refer to the lady or to the peer?” asked Amber.
“Possibly to both, Miss Amber. Anyhow I’m going to start the campaign by
denying on authority that any engagement exists between the young lady
and a still younger Duke. Now I need scarcely say that the desire to
know more about a young lady who is not engaged to marry a Duke is
practically universal. Well, I’ll take good care to let the public know
more about my client, and she may be engaged to marry the Duke after
all--perhaps she may even marry a member of the Stock Exchange itself.
But you mustn’t suppose that my clients are exclusively ladies.”
“Ladies? ladies? oh, no, Mr. Bateman, I am sure we should never suppose
that they were ladies,” said Lady Severn.
“They are not,” said Mr. Bateman. “Only a few days ago an honest but
obscure tradesman placed himself in my hands. The fact is that he has
laid in an absurdly large stock of High Church literature as well as
ornaments, and he cannot get rid of them. The stupid man has not acumen
enough to perceive that all he has got to do in order to get his name
into every paper in the Kingdom, with a portrait in the Weeklies and
a stereo-block in the Evening editions, is to disturb a Low Church
congregation, and insist on being prosecuted as a brawler. If he
succeeds in getting prosecuted into popularity he may double his already
large stock and yet be certain of getting rid of it all within a week of
his first appearance at the Police Court.”
“You are certainly making an art of the business, Mr. Bateman,” said
Amber. “I had no idea when I suggested to you the possibilities of an
advertising agency that you would develop it to such an extent.”
“Nor had I, Miss Amber. But I have really only reported progress to you
in a few of the cases I have now before me. I have said nothing about
the lady manicurist to whom I am giving a show by means of an action
for libel; nor have I told you of the tooth paste to which I am going to
give a start through the legitimate agency of a breach of promise
case. The falling out between the two litigants--whom I may mention
incidentally----”
“Dentally,” suggested Mr. Galmyn in a low tone.
“I beg your pardon. Oh, yes, of course. Well, dentally--to be sure,
it’s a tooth paste--yes, and incidentally, are the proprietors of the
article--their difference arose not upon the actual merits of the tooth
paste, for every love letter that will be read in court will contain a
handsome acknowledgment of the fact that the article is superior to any
in the market--no, the misunderstanding arose through--as the counsel
for the defence will allege--the lady’s head having been completely
turned by the compliments which she received from her friends upon the
marvellous change in her appearance since she was induced to use the
_Tivoli Toothicum_, the new preparation for the teeth and gums. Oh,
believe me, the ordinary system of advertising is obsolete. By the way,
I wonder if you know any one who is acquainted with a young Australian
lately come to London. His name is Mr. Winwood--Pierce Winwood.”
“Why, Guy Overton was talking to us to-day about this very person,” said
Amber. “Is it possible that he has placed himself in your hands, Mr.
Bateman?”
“Not yet--not yet. I only heard about him yesterday. I hope that he will
enter his name on my books. I am very anxious to get a good Colonial
_Clientele_. The way the chances of first-class Colonials have been
frittered away in this country makes the heart of any one with the true
feelings of an Imperialist to bleed. I know that I can do everything
for this Mr. Winwood, but, of course, though I can advertise others, I
cannot advertise myself--no, I can only trust to my friends to do that
for me.”
“So that on the whole you have your hands pretty full just now?” said
Amber.
“Pretty full? My dear Miss Amber, if I were engaged in no other branch
of my business but the complete prospectus list, I should still have my
hands full. I did not mention this list, by the way. Well, I think
it will place in my hands at once the largest prospectus addressing
business in the Kingdom. Good heavens! when one thinks of the thousands
upon thousands of pounds at present being squandered in promiscuous
prospectus posting, one is led to wonder if there is any real knowledge
of this business on the part of company promoters. At present they allow
their prospectuses to be thrown broadcast around; so that on an average
it may be said that nine-tenths of these documents fall into the hands
of intelligent--that is to say, moderately intelligent people who, of
course, see at once through the schemes. Now it is clear that to let
the prospectuses fall into the hands of intelligent people does positive
harm.”
“Not if they decline to be drawn,” suggested Mr. Galmyn.
“I am discussing the question from the standpoint of the promoters, you
forget, my dear Galmyn. It is plain that if the intelligent people who
see through the schemes talk to their friends about the flotations,
they will do the promoters’ position harm. Now, with the list which I
am compiling it will be impossible for a prospectus to go astray, for my
list will contain only the names of widows left with small means which
they are anxious to increase, orphans left without trustees, small
shopkeepers, governesses, half-pay officers, clerks and clergymen--in
short only such people as know nothing about business, and who
invariably skip all the small print in a prospectus, whereas, I need
scarcely say, the small print is the only part of a prospectus that an
intelligent person reads. The list that I am compiling is taking up a
great deal of time; but I will guarantee that it does not contain half
a dozen names of intelligent people. The only surprising thing is that
such a list was not compiled long ago. Oh, you must pardon my egotism;
I have bored you to a point of extinction, but I knew that you would be
interested in hearing of my progress. I can never forget that it was you
who told me that I should not waste my time but take up some enterprise
demanding the exercise of such talents as I possess. I hope should you
meet this Mr. Pierce Winwood, you will mention my name to him--casually,
of course--as casually as possible. Good-afternoon, Lady Severn.
Good-afternoon, Miss Amber. Are you coming my way, Galmyn--I can give
you a lift?”
“No, I’m going in just the opposite direction,” said Mr. Galmyn.
Then Mr. Bateman smiled his way to the door. “What a bounder!” murmured
the other man. “He has found congenial employment certainly,” said Lady
Severn. “Oh, Amber, Amber, your name is Frankenstein.”