“I can’t account for more than five,” said Traddles, with an air of perplexity.

“⁠—thousand, do you mean?” inquired my aunt, with uncommon composure, “or pounds?”

“Five thousand pounds,” said Traddles.

“It was all there was,” returned my aunt. “I sold three, myself. One, I paid for your articles, Trot, my dear; and the other two I have by me. When I lost the rest, I thought it wise to say nothing about that sum, but to keep it secretly for a rainy day. I wanted to see how you would come out of the trial, Trot; and you came out nobly⁠—persevering, self-reliant, self-denying! So did Dick. Don’t speak to me, for I find my nerves a little shaken!”

Nobody would have thought so, to see her sitting upright, with her arms folded; but she had wonderful self-command.

“Then I am delighted to say,” cried Traddles, beaming with joy, “that we have recovered the whole money!”