"I'll tell you," he explained. "I've got my own system o' collecting. If I hadn't, I couldna' get through. In each street I've one tenant as I trust. And the other tenants can leave their rent and their rent books there. When they do that regular for a month, I give 'em twopence apiece for their children. If they do it regular for a year, I mak' 'em a present of a wik's rent at Christmas. It's cheaper nor rent-collectors." "What a good idea!" she said, impressed. "But how _do_ you carry the money about?" "I bank i' Bosley, and I bank i' Turnhill, too. And I bank once i' Bosley and twice i' Turnhill o' Mondays, and twice i' Bosley o' Tuesdays. Only yesterday I was behind. I reckon as I can do all my collecting between nine o'clock Monday and noon Tuesday. I go to th' worst tenants first--be sure o' that. There's some o' 'em, if you don't catch 'em early o' Monday, you don't catch 'em at all." "It's incredible to me how you can do it all in a day and a half," she pursued. "Why, how many houses are there?" "Near two hundred and forty i' Bosley," he responded. "Hast forgotten th' sugar this time, lass?" "And in Turnhill?" she said, passing the sugar. "I think I'll have that piece of bacon if you don't want it." "Over a hundred," said he. "A hundred and twenty." "So that, first and last, you have to handle about sixty pounds each week, and all in silver and copper. Fancy! What a weight it must be!" "Ay!" he said, but with less enthusiasm. "That's three thousand a-year," she continued. Her tone was still innocuously sympathetic. She seemed to be talking of money as she might have talked of counters. Nevertheless, he felt that he had been entrapped. "I expect you must have saved at the very least thirty thousand pounds by this time," she reflected, judicially, disinterestedly--speaking as a lawyer might have spoken. He offered no remark. "That means another thirty pounds a week," she resumed. Decidedly she was marvellous at sums of interest. He persisted in offering no remark. "By the way," she said, "I must look into my household accounts. How much did you tell me you allowed Mrs. Butt a week for expenses?" "A pound," he replied, shortly. She made no comment. "You don't own the house, do you?" she inquired. "No," he said. "What's the rent?" "Eighteen pounds," he said. Reluctant is a word that inadequately describes his attitude. "The worst of this house is that it has no bathroom," she remarked. "Still, eighteen pounds a year is eighteen pounds a year." Her tone was faultless, in its innocent, sympathetic common sense. The truth was, it was too faultless; it rendered James furious with a fury that was dangerous, because it had to be suppressed. Then suddenly she left the table. "The Kiel butter at a shilling a pound is quite good enough, Georgiana," he heard her exhorting the servant in the scullery. Ten minutes later, she put ten sovereigns in front of him.