“I knew it, my dear—at least I felt sure it would come to this, though it is sooner than I expected. It is not written anywhere, I believe, that a boy may not marry a baby, nevertheless—”
“But she’s not a baby,” broke in Miss Lillycrop.
“Tottie is seventeen now, and Pax is twenty-four. But this is not the half of what I have to tell you. Ever since Pax was taken into partnership by Mr Enoch Blurt the business has prospered, as you are aware, and our active little friend has added all kinds of branches to it—such as the preparation and sale of entomological, and ichthyological, and other -ological specimens, and the mechanical parts of toy-engines; and that lad Jiggs has turned out such a splendid expounder of all these things, that the shop has become a sort of terrestrial heaven for boys. And dear old Fred Blurt has begun to recover under the influence of success, so that he is now able to get out frequently in a wheel-chair. But the strangest news of all is that Mister Enoch Blurt got a new baby—a girl—and recovered his diamonds on the self-same day!”
“Indeed!” said Miss Stivergill, beginning to be influenced by these surprising revelations.
“Yes, and it’s a curious evidence of the energetic and successful way in which things are managed by our admirable Post-Office—”
“What! the union of a new baby with recovered diamonds?”
“No, no, Maria, how stupid you are! I refer, of course, to the diamonds. Have you not seen reference made to them in the papers?”
“No. I’ve seen or heard nothing about it.”
“Indeed! I’m surprised. Well, that hearty old letter-carrier, Solomon Flint, sent that ridiculously stout creature whom he calls Dollops to me with the last Report of the Postmaster-General, with the corner of page eleven turned down, for he knew I was interested in anything that might affect the Blurts. But here it is. I brought it to read to you. Listen: ‘On the occasion of the wreck of the Trident in Howlin’ Cove, on the west of Ireland, many years ago, strenuous efforts were made by divers to recover the Cape of Good Hope mails, and, it will be recollected, they were partially successful, but a portion which contained diamonds could not be found. Diving operations were, however, resumed quite recently, and with most satisfactory results. One of the registered-letter-bags was found. It had been so completely imbedded in sand, and covered by a heavy portion of the wreck, that the contents were not altogether destroyed, notwithstanding the long period of their immersion. On being opened in the Chief Office in London, the bag was found to contain several large packets of diamonds, the addresses on which had been partially obliterated, besides about seven pounds weight of loose diamonds, which, having escaped from their covers, were mixed with the pulp in the bottom of the bag. Every possible endeavour was used by the officers of the Department to discover the rightful owners of those packets which were nearly intact, and with such success that they were all, with very little delay, duly delivered. The remaining diamonds were valued by an experienced broker, and sold—the amount realised being about 19,000 pounds. After very great trouble, and much correspondence, the whole of the persons for whom the loose diamonds were intended were, it is believed, ascertained, and this sum proved sufficient to satisfy the several claimants to such an extent that not a single complaint was heard.’”
“How strange! Why did you not tell me of this before, Lilly?”