When Mr. Meredith Simpson takes a holiday, then the
political barometer points to 'set fair'!"

"A tribute to my conscientiousness," the Minister replied, smiling. "I
am glad to see that I am not the only hard-worked statesman who feels
able to take a few days' holiday."

Selingman glanced at the round table and beamed.

"It is true," he admitted. "Every country seems to have sent its
statesmen holiday-making. And what a playground, too!" he added,
glancing towards Hunterleys with something which was almost a wink.
"Here, political crises seem of little account by the side of the
turning wheel. This is where the world unbends and it is well that there
should be such a place. Shall we see you at the Club or in the rooms
later?"

"Without a doubt," Mr. Simpson assented. "For what else does one live in
Monte Carlo?"

"How did you leave things in town?" Mr. Draconmeyer enquired.

"So-so!" the Minister answered. "A little flat, but then it is a dull
season of the year."

"Markets about the same, I suppose?" Mr. Draconmeyer asked.

"I am afraid," Mr. Simpson confessed, "that I only study the city column
from the point of view of what Herr Selingman has just called the
political barometer. Things were a little unsteady when I left. Consols
fell several points yesterday."

Mr. Draconmeyer frowned.

"It is incomprehensible," he declared. "A few months ago there was real
danger, one is forced to believe, of a European war. To-day the crisis
is passed, yet the money-markets which bore up so well through the
critical period seem now all the time on the point of collapse. It is
hard for a banker to know how to operate these days. I wish you
gentlemen in Downing Street, Mr. Simpson, would make it easier for us."

Mr. Simpson shrugged his shoulders.

"The real truth of the matter is," he said, "that you allow your
money-market to become too sensitive an affair. A whisper will depress
it. A threatening word spoken in the Reichstag or in the House of
Parliament, magnified a hundred-fold before it reaches its destination,
has sometimes a most unwarranted effect upon markets. You mustn't blame
us so much, Mr. Draconmeyer. You jump at conclusions too easily in the
city."

"Sound common sense," Mr. Draconmeyer agreed. "You are perfectly right
when you say that we are over-sensitive. The banker deplores it as much
as the politician. It's the money-kings, I suppose, who find it
profitable."

They returned to their table a m