Skinner counted the notes and left them with Mr. Hardie; the bills he took to his desk to note them on the back of the receipt. Whilst he was writing this with his usual slowness and precision, poor Dodd's heart overflowed. “It is my children's fortune, ye see: I don't look on a sixpence of it as mine: that it is what made me so particular. It belongs to my little Julia, bless her:--she is a rosebud if ever there was one; and oh! such a heart; and so fond of her poor father; but not fonder than he is of her--and to my dear boy Edward; he is the honestest young chap you ever saw: what he says, you may swear to with your eyes shut. But how could they miss either good looks or good hearts, and _her_ children? the best wife and the best mother in England. She has been a true consort to me this many a year, and I to her, in deep water and shoal, let the wind blow high or low. Here is a Simple Simon vaunting his own flesh and blood! No wonder that little gentleman there is grinning at me. Well, grin away, lad! perhaps you haven't got any children. But you have, sir: and you know how it is with us fathers; our hearts are so full of the little darlings, out it must come. You can understand how joyful I feel at saving their fortune from land-sharks and sea-sharks, and landing it safe in an honest man's hands like you and your father before you.” Skinner handed him the receipt. He cast his eye over it. “All right, little gentleman. Now my heart is relieved of such a weight: I feel to have just cleared out a cargo of bricks. Good-bye: shake hands. I wish you were as happy as I am. I wish all the world was happy. God bless you! God bless you both!” And with this burst he was out of the room and making ardently for Albion Villa. The banker and his clerk turned round on their seats and eyed one another a long time in silence and amazement. Was this thing a dream? their faces seemed to ask. Then Mr. Hardie rested his senatorial head on his hand and pondered deeply. Skinner too reflected on this strange freak of Fortune: and the result was that he burst in on his principal's reverie with a joyful shout: “The bank is saved! Hardie's is good for another hundred years.” The banker started, for Skinner's voice sounded like a pistol-shot in his ear, so high strung was he with thought. “Hush! hush!” he said, and pondered again in silence. At last he turned to Skinner. “You think our course is plain? I tell you it is so dark and complicated it would puzzle Solomon to know what is best to be done.” “Save the bank, sir, whatever you do.” “How can I save the bank with a few thousand pounds, which I must refund when called on? You look keenly into what is under your eye, Skinner, but you cannot see a yard beyond your nose. Let me think.” After a while he took a sheet of paper, and jotted down “the materials,” as he called them, and read them out to his accomplice:--