without the bonnet? Excuse
me for--"

"La! ma'am, _without_ the bonnet, of course. It may perhaps be rather
heavy, but I an't quite sure yet. I'll let you know in an hour or so."

Mrs Gaff rose abruptly, left the house, with Tottie, precipitately, and
made her way to the bank, where she presented herself with a defiant air
to the teller who had originally supplied her with a hundred pounds in
gold. She always became and looked defiant, worthy woman, on entering
the bank, having become unalterably impressed with the idea that all the
clerks, tellers, and directors had entered into an agreement to throw
every possible difficulty in the way of her drawing out money, and
having resolved in her own determined way that she wouldn't give in as
long as, (to borrow one of her husband's phrases), "there was a shot in
the locker!"

"Now, sir," she said to the elderly teller, "I wants twenty pounds, if
there's as much in the shop."

The elderly teller smiled, and bade her sit down while he should write
out the cheque for her. She sat down, gazing defiance all round her,
and becoming painfully aware that there were a number of young men
behind various screened rails whose noses were acting as safety-valves
to their suppressed feelings.

When the cheque was drawn out and duly signed, Mrs Gaff went to the
rails and shook it as she might have shaken in the face of her enemies
the flag under which she meant to conquer or to die. On receiving it
back she returned and presented it to the elderly teller with a look
that said plainly--"There! refuse to cash that at your peril;" but she
said nothing, she only snorted.

"How will you have it?" inquired the teller blandly.

"In coppers," said Mrs Gaff stoutly.

"Coppers!" exclaimed the teller in amazement.

"Yes, coppers."

"My good woman, are you aware that you could scarcely lift such a sum in
coppers."

"How many would it make?" she inquired with an air of indecision.

"Four thousand eight hundred pence."

Mrs Gaff's resolution was shaken; after a few moments' consideration
she said she would take it in silver, and begged to have it mixed--with
a good number of sixpences amongst it.

"You see, my lamb," she whispered to Tottie, while the teller was
getting the money, "my poor cousin George is a'most too old to go to sea
now, and he han't got a penny to live on, an' so I wants to gladden his
heart and astonish his eyes wi' a sight o' such a heap o' silver. Mix
it a