“An ottoman,” said Tottie.
“Ay, a ottyman by day, an’ steps-an’-stairs at night. Look there!”
Mrs Gaff opened up the steps and said, “What d’ye think o’ that?”
Gaff said, “Wonderful!” and Billy exclaimed, “Hallo!”
“Yes, Stephen,” resumed Mrs Gaff, going to the cupboard and fetching the tea-caddy, from which she extracted her banker’s book, “all them things was bought for you with your own fortin’, which is ten thousand pound, (an’ more, for I’ve not lived up to the interest by no manner o’ means); an’ that there book’ll show ye it’s all true.”
Having reached this point, Mrs Gaff was seized with a fit of laughter, which she stifled on her husband’s breast, and then, flinging herself into the four-poster, she burst into a flood of tears.
This was the first time in her life that she had given way to such weakness, and she afterwards said to Tottie, in reference to it, that she couldn’t help it, and had made up her mind to have a good cry once for all, and be done with it.
Gaff and his son examined the bank-book, and listened with wonder to Tottie’s account of the manner in which their wealth had come to them. Before the recital was completed, Mrs Gaff had had her cry out, and dried her eyes.
“What think ye of that, Stephen?” she said, pointing to the book.
Gaff shook his head slowly, and looked very grave.