"Very well, my dear," he said, in a kindly voice. "We will leave them to their repose in the safe upstairs. I brought them down from the bank, intending to give them to you."
"Upstairs?" she said, in something like a whisper, a frightened whisper.
"Why, yes," he said, simply. "They are in the safe in the little room adjoining my bedroom. I have not seen them since my wife died," he added, with unconscious pathos.
Scarcely knowing why, a vague dread, a presentiment of evil stirred within Miriam's breast.
"Oh, ought they not to be sent back to the bank, Lord Sutcombe?" she said in a low voice.
"Perhaps they ought," he said, gravely. "You are thinking of burglars," he added, with a smile. "You need not be apprehensive; the safe is a remarkably good one; one of the best, I believe, and I carry the key about with me always. I have it on my watch-chain. I don't think the most modern and scientific burglar could break open the safe; at any rate, he could not do so without making a noise which someone in the house would hear. Oh, they are quite secure from burglars, believe me, Miriam."
"I am glad," she said, almost inaudibly. "Shall I play you something else."
"Do," he responded. "Where is Percy?"
"In the smoking-room, I believe," she replied.
He went to her and laid his hand on her shoulder.