When Scots accountant Robert Smith, now to head up the Stakis organisation, took to the boards to play a Hull docker in an amateur dramatic production in rural England he employed a Glasgow accent. A fellow actor who sympathised with his difficulties in recreating the cadences of Hull promised no-one among the Sussex audience would know the difference.

It turned out that he was fooling no-one because the area's theatre-goers, through his other stage appearances, were already familiar with Smith, living as he was in their midst with his wife Alison and daughters Jeanette and Diane. There was his splendid Glasgow policeman, inspired by his Maryhill upbringing, to recall. There were his valiant efforts at various Shakespearian roles, and there was his colourfully-attired pantomime parrot, one he admits he played in a gravelly Glaswegian voice and which involved him ''running about nutting people''.

Smith may have been a ''bit player'' in the am-dram world but in reality he's a high-flier, a man who has made his mark in international finance. In September Smith, the chief executive of Morgan Grenfell Asset Management and chairman of Morgan Grenfell Development Capital Ltd, will become chairman of the Glasgow-based Stakis leisure organisation.

Just weeks later the 53-year-old, who was the deputy chairman, has another important date. In his role as chairman of the board of trustees of the National Museums of Scotland he, and the many others who have invested much time and energy in it, will see the new multi-million pound museum open later this year to offer an unrivalled insight into the country's history and culture.

Robert Haldane Smith was born in the shadow of Firhill, home of Partick Thistle whose recent troubled history moved him to donate ''a modest financial contribution''.

It may be difficult to believe from his demeanour but he was a shy child, so much so that to build up his

confidence his parents sent him to Friday night classes at Glasgow's Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Dramatic Art, his first encounter with acting.

His education proper began at Hillhead Primary where Alison, who was born in Inverness and moved to Glasgow at the age of two, also received her early schooling. But, while she went on to the secondary, a scholarship took him to Allan Glen's. Glasgow University was to follow, but matters didn't work out.

He loved English and had thoughts of teaching the subject but his English language and literature studies let him down. Dreams of an honours degree were dashed.

He had, however, developed a taste for economics, and he saw that chartered accountancy could be the path to take. A bus trip to the Institute of Chartered Accountants of Scotland proved a shrewd move. He got a list of companies to call and dialled a couple of the big accountancy operations around one night.

The phone just rang out but he

didn't give up. He hadn't liked failure when he encountered it at university and didn't fancy a second helping.

Smith dialled the number of the CA company known today as Robb Ferguson and this time got an answer.

An attentive senior partner invited him to call the next morning. The interview he remembers as ''fairly gentle stuff''. His qualifications were in order and his apprenticeship began.

It meant at a later date a return to Glasgow University for a year to do subjects such as accounting theory and law. But take-overs, mergers, and ''merchant-bankie kinds of things'' were much more his up his street.

Recalling his apprenticeship Smith is glad it was with a small firm. ''You were blooded very early. I remember doing audits for companies which were run by grizzled veterans who had built up perhaps a cafe business or a carpet retailer's. They were actually listening to a 21-year-old and what I was telling them. It was a bit of a turn-on.''

One night he was working late

at the office ''for half-a-crown

team money''.

''We did very little work because we were underpaid and they underpaid us because we did very little work. I wasn't very sure what the whole point of it was.''

Along with his other colleagues in their early twenties he regularly thumbed through accountancy magazines looking through the recruitment ads section which included job offers in places like Brazil, California, and Hawaii.

Pictures of girls in grass skirts leaning against palm trees strumming guitars confronted the twentysomethings. Some went for it.

Smith came across an advert for what is now the 3i venture capital company. It showed a picture of a large man on a seat and a small businessman sitting on his knee being advised on matters such as loans and shares. Girls in grass skirts were put to the back of his mind, due in no small way to the fact he and Alison had been dating for some years since meeting as teenagers at a Kelvinside church in bible class - he was the treasurer, she was the secretary.

The venture-capital advertisement offered everything he really wanted to do and he applied for a job. The interview for his apprenticeship had been a breeze. This time around it was a ''harrowing'' experience in London where he, another Scot, and six Englishmen were given a day-long ''pounding''.

He won the day and soon began a variety of promotions in a variety of places like Reading, Brighton, and for a spell, during which he married Alison, in Glasgow.

Back south, where his amateur dramatics career developed, he worked away until suddenly he was head-hunted by the Royal Bank of Scotland to be general manager corporate finance, just below board level. Despite the family being settled in the south - Jeanette, now in IT recruitment in Edinburgh, and Diane, a journalist in London, were born there - he felt it was an offer he couldn't refuse.

Senior posts followed with Charterhouse Bank, which the Royal had purchased, before his head was again being hunted, this time to develop the Morgan Grenfell organisation. A few years later Smith's name became a common sight in newspaper headlines. As chief executive of Morgan Grenfell Asset Management he was asked by Deutsche Bank, its parent company, to clear up the much-publicised mess involving fund manager Peter Young.

He, or more accurately Alison, also found reporters door-stepping the home they built and still enjoy in the Scottish Borders when he was instrumental in the high-profile departure of highly paid City fund manager Nicola Horlick.

Smith, a past president of the Institute of Chartered Accountants of Scotland and recently appointed a non-executive director of the Financial Services Authority, the UK regulating body, is looking forward to the new role at Stakis, and of course there's the Museum of Scotland.

Smith and museums can be said to go back to his childhood. One day he and a gang of other ''grubby kids'' found a butterfly, nothing rare but a species that appeared a shade out of the ordinary.

Spotting it in their jam jar his father suggested they take it to Kelvingrove where an hour later a curator ushered the the boys into an oak-panelled room. ''He told us while it wasn't very rare it was unusual in the Glasgow area. He took some dust, sprinkled its wings, and set if free out of the window. Then he sat

us down and talked about butterflies and caterpillars and we went off

10ft tall.''

Museum trips became more common with model ships, suits of armour, and stuffed elephants and weasels the main attractions. ''We weren't the flat art boys.''

Sussex, responsible for the resumption of his stage appearances, can also claim to have encouraged an interest in heritage matters. While working there he was invited to join the local heritage trust, a body of earls, sirs, and the like. ''I was the only one who could add up,'' Smith claims as the reason for being invited to join the Sussex set.

The big time came, however, with his invitation from the Secretary of State for Scotland to join the Museums Advisory Board, a body looking at the idea of all the national museums being brought under one board of trustees.

Smith remembers with affection the meetings of the board, chaired by the late Lord Bute, a man for whom he had huge respect and liking - ''a lovely, lovely guy''.

The board members eventually produced a detailed report. ''There was terrific bonding among this group and it didn't matter who you were. We didn't want to be disbanded and had reunion dinners.''

Smith was to become a member of the board of trustees of the new National Museums of Scotland that resulted and later followed the Marquess of Bute as its chairman, a position he will give up in three years.

The president of the British Association of Friends of Museums was also asked, this time by Downing Street, to serve on the Museums and Galleries Commission.

It will be one of his proudest moments when the new Museum of Scotland, which was first talked about 30 years ago and which is set to be a building of outstanding architectural achievement, is officially opened on St Andrew's Day.

''I don't think there can be any better timing. The museum is showing the world to Scotland and Scotland to the world. I'm glad I came into this culture thing.''

Scotland is important to him. His may be a life where work dictates

he spends most of his time in London or travelling.

The house, however, that he and Alison built near Peebles and share with dogs Tess, Whisky, and Meg is testimony to the place the country has in his heart. He doesn't hide his Scottish roots and he considers his Scottish accent is worth 10 points in any negotiations. Ten more than his Hull accent.