"Well, Mr Saxby," said Aunt Sophia, "have you sold those consols for me?" "Yes, ma'am, as you insisted; but you'll excuse me, I'm sure, when I tell you that--" "There, there, there, man! I know what you are going to say; but it is my own money, and I shall do with it what I please, and--" Sniff, sniff, sniff. "Whatever is it smells so strong?" "Strong, ma'am, strong?" said Mr Saxby, wiping his brow, for Aunt Sophia had a peculiar effect upon him, causing him to grow moist about the palms of his hands and dew to form upon his temples. "Why, it's that handkerchief, man: and you've been putting scent upon your hair!" "Well, a little, ma'am, just a little," said Saxby, with a smile that was more indicative of feebleness than strength. "I was coming into the country, you see, and, ahem!--sweets to the sweet." "Stuff!--How about that money." "There's the cheque, ma'am," said Mr Saxby, taking out his pocket-book; "but I give it to you with regret; and--let me beg of you, my dear madam, to be guided by me." "That will do, Saxby. I know what I am about; and now, I suppose, you have some eligible investment to propose?" "Well, no, my dear madam; no. Things are very quiet. Money's cheap as dirt." "May I ask, then, why you have come down?" "The--er--the cheque, my dear madam." "Might very well have come by post, Mr Saxby." "Yes, but I was anxious to see and hear about how poor Sir James is getting on; to say a few words of condolence to Lady Scarlett. I esteem them both very highly, Miss Raleigh; I do indeed." "Dear me! Ah!" said Aunt Sophia; "and--Shall I finish for you, Saxby?" "Finish for me, my dear madam? I do not understand." "Then I will, Saxby: you thought that if you came down and brought the cheque, you might perhaps see my niece." "My dear madam! My dear Miss Raleigh! Really, my dear madam!" "Don't be a sham, Saxby. Own it like a man." Mr Saxby looked helplessly round the room, as if in search of help, even of an open door through which he could escape; but there was none; and whenever he looked straight before him, there was the unrelenting eye of the elderly maiden lady fixed upon him, and seeming to read him through and through. He wished that he had not come; he wished that he could bring his office effrontery down with him; he wished that he could make Aunt Sophia quail, as he could his clerks; but all in vain. Aunt Sophia, to use her own words, could turn him round her finger when she had him there, and at last he gasped out: "Well, there, I'll be honest about it--I did." "I didn't need telling," said Aunt Sophia. "I believe, Saxby, I could even tell you what you are thinking now." "Oh nonsense, ma'am--nonsense!" "Oh yes, I could," said Aunt Sophia sharply. "You were thinking that I was a wretched old griffin, and you wished I was dead." "Wrong!" cried Saxby triumphantly, and speaking more like himself. "I'll own to the griffin; but hang me if I will to the wishing you dead!"