‘That is capital. I rather expected to see Harrison in the train. I shouldn’t be surprised if he calls on his way from the station. He has to pass our door, you know, on his way to Maybury.’ ‘He is sure to call.’ ‘What are you holding there?’ ‘It’s a paper.’ ‘What paper?’ ‘Who is it who talks about woman’s curiosity?’ ‘Let me see it.’ ‘Well, sir, if you must know, it is the _Financial Whisper_.’ ‘Where in the world did you get it?’ ‘I knew that the Montresors took a financial paper. I remember Mrs. Montresor saying once how dreadfully dry it was. So when you were gone I sent Jemima round and borrowed it, and I have read it right through to see if there was anything about our mine in it—_our_ mine, Frank; does it not sound splendid?’ ‘Well, is there anything?’ She clapped her hands with delight. ‘Yes, there is. “This prosperous mine—” that is what it says. Look here, it is under the heading of Australian Notes,’ she held out the paper and pointed, but his face fell as he looked. ‘O Maude, it’s preposterous.’ ‘What is preposterous?’ ‘The word is preposterous and not prosperous—“this preposterous mine.”’ ‘Frank!’ She turned her face away. ‘Never mind, dear! What’s the odds?’ ‘O Frank, our first investment—our fifty pounds! And to think that I should have kept the paper as a surprise for you!’ ‘Well, the print is a little slurred, and it was a very natural mistake. After all, the paper may be wrong. Oh don’t, Maude, please don’t! It’s not worth it—all the gold on the earth is not worth it. There’s a sweet girlie! Now, are you better? Oh, damn those open curtains!’ A tall and brisk young man with a glossy hat was coming through the garden. An instant later Jemima had ushered him in. ‘Hullo, Harrison!’ ‘How do you do, Crosse? How are you, Mrs. Crosse?’ ‘How do you do? I’ll just order tea if you will excuse me.’ Ordering tea seemed to involve a good deal of splashing water. Maude came back with a merrier face. ‘Is this a good paper, Mr. Harrison?’ ‘What is it? _Financial Whisper_! No, the most venal rag in the city.’ ‘Oh, I am so glad!’ ‘Why?’ ‘Well, you know, we bought some shares to-day, and it calls our mine a preposterous one.’ ‘Oh, is that all. Who cares what the _Financial Whisper_ says! It would call the Bank of England a preposterous institution if it thought it could bear Consols by doing so. Its opinion is not worth a halfpenny. By the way, Crosse, it was about those shares that I called.’ ‘I thought you might. I have only just got back myself, and I saw by your wire that you had bought them all right.’ ‘Yes, I thought I had better let you have your contract at once. Settling day is on Monday, you know.’ ‘All right. Thank you. I will let you have a cheque. What—what’s this?’ The contract had been laid face upwards upon the table. Frank Crosse’s face grew whiter and his eyes larger as he stared at it. It ran in this way—