money. But in truth a rich man never is indifferent about his money, and poor Greene looked very blank at my proposition.

“Do you mean to say that it’s gone for ever?” he asked.

“I’ll not leave the country without knowing more about it,” said Mrs Greene.

“It certainly is very odd,” said Sophonisba. Even Sophonisba seemed to think that I was too off-hand.

“It will be a month before I can get money, and my bill here will be something tremendous,” said Greene.

“I wouldn’t pay them a farthing till I got my box,” said Mrs Greene.

“That’s nonsense,” said Sophonisba. And so it was.

“Hold your tongue, miss!” said the step-mother.

“Indeed, I shall not hold my tongue,” said the step-daughter.

Poor Greene! He had lost more than his box within the last twelve months, for, as I had learned in that whispered conversation over the tea-table with Sophonisba, this was in reality her papa’s marriage trip.

Another day was now gone, and we all went to bed. Had I not been very foolish I should have had myself called at five in the morning, and have gone away by the early boat, leaving my ten napoleons behind me. But, unfortunately, Sophonisba had exacted a promise from me that I would not do this, and thus all chance of spending a day or two in Venice was lost to me. Moreover, I was thoroughly fatigued, and almost glad of any excuse which would allow me to lie in bed on the following morning. I did lie in bed till nine o’clock, and then found the Greenes at breakfast.

“Let us go and look at the Serbelloni Gardens,” said I, as soon as the silent meal was over; “or take a boat over to the Sommariva Villa.”

“I should like it so much,” said Sophonisba.

“We will do nothing of the kind till I have found my property,” said Mrs Greene. “Mr Robinson, what arrangement did you make yesterday with the police at Como?”

“The police at Como?” I said. “I did not go to the police.”

“Not go to the police? And do you mean to say that I am to be robbed of my jewels and no efforts made for redress? Is there no such thing as a constable in this wretched country? Mr Greene, I do insist upon it that you at once go to the nearest British consul.”

“I suppose I had better write home for money,” said he.

“And do you mean to say the you haven’t written yet?” said I, probably with some acrimony in my voice.

“You needn’t scold Papa,” said Sophonisba.

“I don’t know what I am to do,” said Mr Greene, and he began walking up and down the room; but still he did not call for pen and ink, and I began again to feel that he was a swindler. Was it possible that a man of business, who had made his fortune in London, should allow his wife to keep all her jewels in a box, and carry about his own money in the same?

“I don’t see why you need be so very unhappy, Papa,” said Sophonisba. “Mr Robinson, I’m sure, will let you have whatever money you may want at present.” This was pleasant!