"
I am afraid that in the obscurity below, Mr. Moggridge inspected the
weighing of ship's stores and sealing of excisable goods in a very
perfunctory manner. There were so many dim corners and passages
where Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys needed guidance; and, after all, the
minions were sufficient for the work. They rummaged here and there
among casks and chests, weighing, counting, and sealing, whilst the
red-faced Uriah stood over them and occasionally looked from the
Collector to the lady with a slow grin of growing intelligence.
They were seated together on a cask, and Mr. Moggridge had possessed
himself, for the twentieth time, of his companion's hand.
"You think the verses obscure?" he was whispering. "Ah! Geraldine,
if I could only speak out from the heart! As it is, 'Euphelia serves
to grace my measure!'"
"Who's she?" asked Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys, whose slight acquaintance
with other poets was, perhaps, the reason why she rated her
companion's verse so highly.
"'The merchant, to conceal his treasure,
Conveys it in a borrowed name,'"
Mr. Moggridge began to quote.--"Why, Geraldine, what is the matter?
Are you faint?"
"No; it is nothing."
"I thought you seemed pale. As I was saying--"
'The merchant, to conceal his treasure--'
"Yes, yes, I know," said she, rising abruptly.
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