as in good humor that evening, and he wanted his guests to
feel perfectly at home, but Jimmie, in his ignorant egotism thought
that his host was really flattered by his praise. Patronizingly, he
said:

"I do, for a fact. I think it's all right."

Pointing to the library beyond, the millionaire said carelessly:

"My best things are in that room. But there are some here that are
rather good, I think. Did you notice this?" He picked up from a table
a piece of carved ivory and held it so that all might see. "It was
carved by a Japanese master nearly eight hundred years ago."

"Did he get much for it?" asked Jimmie, opening wide his eyes.

"Who," smiled Stafford, "the carver?"

"Yes."

"Probably a few cents a day."

"A few cents a day?" gaped the clerk.

"Yes."

Jimmie whistled and walked away. Contemptuously he said:

"He ought to have joined the Carvers' Union."

Stafford laughed.

"There was none in those days," he said. "Even if there had been he
wouldn't have joined. He was an artist; he worked for the joy of
working."

Jimmie snickered. Sneeringly he said:

"He knew his own business best, I suppose, but I've never seen a man
who could raise a family on that."

Replacing the ivory back in the cabinet where it belonged, Stafford
turned to the mantel and pointed to the Peach Blow vase, which only a
few moments before had met with disaster. But the damage was not
visible from a distance, and with the natural pride of a collector
showing one of his most valued possessions, the railroad man said:

"I have one or two Peach Blows that I think are rather good. There is
one up there which I am particularly fond of."

Jimmie more and more nervous gave his fiancee a nudge. In a frightened
undertone he whispered to her:

"It's coming! It's coming!"

To hide her confusion, Fanny pretended to be very busy with her
handkerchief. Stafford, meantime, had gone up to the bookcase.
Reaching up his hand so he could take hold of the vase by its neck,
the millionaire went on:

"This vase is said to be--"

His hand touched the vase, but, instead of lifting it, he simply
lifted up the piece which had been broken off. For a moment he stared
at the fragment in amazement, while the others looked on in silent
consternation. There was an ominous pause. Jimmie, turning pale, could
feel his heart thumping violently against his ribs.

"Why, it's broken!" exclaimed their host.

"Yes--" said Jimmie quickly.

"Why--so it