drawing-room near by came the sound
of women's voices.

"Before we go in," said Jadwin, "I want you to see our art gallery and
the organ. Last time you were up, remember, the men were still at work
in here."

They passed down a broad corridor, and at the end, just before parting
the heavy, sombre curtains, Jadwin pressed a couple of electric
buttons, and in the open space above the curtain sprang up a lambent,
steady glow.

The broker, as he entered, gave a long whistle. The art gallery took in
the height of two of the stories of the house. It was shaped like a
rotunda, and topped with a vast airy dome of coloured glass. Here and
there about the room were glass cabinets full of bibelots, ivory
statuettes, old snuff boxes, fans of the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries. The walls themselves were covered with a multitude of
pictures, oils, water-colours, with one or two pastels.

But to the left of the entrance, let into the frame of the building,
stood a great organ, large enough for a cathedral, and giving to view,
in the dulled incandescence of the electrics, its sheaves of mighty
pipes.

"Well, this is something like," exclaimed the broker.

"I don't know much about 'em myself," hazarded Jadwin, looking at the
pictures, "but Laura can tell you. We bought most of 'em while we were
abroad, year before last. Laura says this is the best." He indicated a
large "Bougereau" that represented a group of nymphs bathing in a
woodland pool.

"H'm!" said the broker, "you wouldn't want some of your Sunday-school
superintendents to see this now. This is what the boys down on the
Board would call a bar-room picture."

But Jadwin did not laugh.

"It never struck me in just that way," he said, gravely.

"It's a fine piece of work, though," Gretry hastened to add. "Fine,
great colouring."

"I like this one pretty well," continued Jadwin, moving to a canvas by
Detaille. It was one of the inevitable studies of a cuirassier; in this
case a trumpeter, one arm high in the air, the hand clutching the
trumpet, the horse, foam-flecked, at a furious gallop. In the rear,
through clouds of dust, the rest of the squadron was indicated by a few
points of colour.

"Yes, that's pretty neat," concurred Gretry. "He's sure got a gait on.
Lord, what a lot of accoutrements those French fellows stick on. Now
our boys would chuck about three-fourths of that truck before going
into action.... Queer way these artists work," he went on, peeri