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