“Now I do hope they will leave us at peace,” said Aunt Sophia. “Talk, talk, talk, and always in the same strain. I do hate country visiting-calls; and I will not have my correspondence get behind.—Now then, my dear, where were we?”
“East Boodle silver-lead mines,” said Naomi. “Ah, of course. Expect to pay a dividend of twelve and a half per cent?”
“Yes, aunt dear,” said the girl, referring to a prospectus.
“Humph! That’s very different from consols. I think I shall have some of those shares, Naomi.”
“Do you, aunt?”
“Do I, child? Why, of course. It’s like throwing money in the gutter, to be content with three per cent, when you can have twelve and a half. Write and tell Mr Saxby to buy me fifty shares.”
“Yes, aunt dear. But do you think it would be safe?”
“Safe, child? Yes, of course. You read what all those captains said—Captain Pengummon and Captain Trehum and Captain Polwhiddle.”
“But Mr Saxby said, aunt, that some of these Cornish mines were very risky speculations; don’t you remember?”
“No, my dear; I don’t. I wonder that I remember anything, after yesterday’s shock.”