“Well, my dear,” said Aunt Victoria, “what is done, is done. There is no time to be lost; you must set to work at once. Go to see Brito at his hotel, and have an understanding with him.”
Juliana shook her head; she did not dare, she said; she was afraid.
Aunt Victoria reflected for a moment, scratching her ear. She then rose and went into the parlor, held a whispered consultation with Uncle Gouvêa, and re-entered the room, closing the door behind her.
“Let us see,” she said; “you have the letters?”
Juliana took from her pocket an old red morocco pocket-book. But she hesitated a moment before opening it, at the same time giving Aunt Victoria a suspicious glance.
“You are afraid to give me the letters,” exclaimed the latter, with an offended air. “Very well; settle the affair yourself, then.”
Juliana handed her the letters, charging her to be very careful of them.
“A certain person,” said Aunt Victoria, “will go to-morrow to see Brito and ask him for a conto de reis.”[7]
Juliana was dazzled. A conto de reis! Aunt Victoria was jesting!
“Why, what are you thinking?” said the latter.