The manager pulled his moustache. "How much is there?"
"I haven't seen it, but from what Cicely says I should say there are heaps and heaps."
"Foolish woman," was the manager's thought, but he wisely kept it to himself.
When, however, the silver was laid before her very eyes, and piece after piece was taken from the trunks, ranged alongside one another in Mrs. Grieves's bedroom, Kate's heart failed her.
"Mr. Wentworth must see it and advise me," was all she could say. And her aunt could not deter her.
Kate's white brow was puckered into a frown, and her pretty mouth drooped slightly at the corners as she watched Mr. Wentworth making his inspection of the silver. She knew his face so well, she could tell at one glance that he was thinking her aunt an exceedingly foolish woman, and Kate was not quite sure that she did not agree with him.
However, the silver was there, and they had to make the best of it, for Mrs. Grieves utterly rejected the idea of having it conveyed to a bank in Sydney.
"The only thing to do," said the manager gloomily, turning to Kate, "is to place it under the trap-door in the counting-house."
Kate looked questioningly at him. He half smiled.
"I think that the only thing you are not aware of in the business is the fact that the flooring of the counting-house can be converted at will into a strong lock-up. Come, and I will show you."