sniffing actively. The girl resented this disregard. But, though she
remained hostile to the grotesque old man with his fussy noises,
the mantle of Mrs. Maldon's moral protection was now over Councillor
Batchgrew, and Rachel's mistrustful scorn of him had lost some of its
pleasing force.

"Rachel--"

Mrs. Maldon gave a hesitating cough.

"Yes, Mrs. Maldon?" said Rachel questioningly deferential, and smiling
faintly into Mrs. Maldon's apprehensive eyes. Against the background
of the aged pair she seemed dramatically young, lithe, living, and
wistful. She was nervous, but she thought with strong superiority:
"What are those old folks planning together? Why do they ring for me?"

At length Mrs. Maldon proceeded--"I think I ought to tell you, dear,
Mr. Batchgrew is obliged to leave this money in my charge to-night."

"What money?" asked Rachel.

Mr. Batchgrew put in sharply, drawing up his legs--"This!... Here,
young miss! Step this way, if ye please. I'll count it. Ten, twenty,
thirty--" With new lickings and clickings he counted the notes
all over again. "There!" When he had finished his pride had become
positively naïve.

"Oh, my word!" murmured Rachel, awed and astounded.

"It is rather a lot, isn't it?" said Mrs. Maldon, with a timid laugh.