"Oh, that'll be _nice_. But please hurry, Harkness. That boy's waiting
for his book. And I can't think."

Two hours later Beryl sat upright on the plush seat of the evening
train, her old suitcase at her feet packed with every garment she
possessed.

"This is more fun than all your old house-parties," she apostrophized
the black square of window, which dimly reflected her glowing face. Then
she lost herself in a delicious "I wonder" as to why she had been
summoned so mysteriously to New York.

Cornelius Allendyce and Miss Effie met her at the end of her wonderful
journey, no part of which had wearied her in the least, and their
smiling faces put at rest the tiny misgiving that had persisted that she
might be walking into some sort of a scheme to separate her from Robin.

"I am glad you got my telegram in time to catch tonight's train. I've
made an important appointment for you tomorrow morning with a friend of
mine." But not another word concerning the mystery would the lawyer say.
Both he and his sister went about with a queer smile, and treated Beryl
as fond (and rich) parents might a good child on Christmas Eve.

The next morning Miss Effie started the two of them off for the
"appointment" with a fluttery excitement bordering on hysteria.

"You'll think, my dear, you've rubbed Aladdin's lamp," she whispered to
Beryl, patting down the neat white collar of Beryl's coat.

Beryl thought of her words when she followed Mr. Allendyce through a
long dim room, crowded with treasures of fabric and ceramic, rich in
coloring, fragrant of oriental perfumes.

"He's a collector," Cornelius Allendyce explained, nodding sideways and
hurrying on to a room in the back, as though their errand had nothing to
do with the curious things about them.

"Ah, there, Eugene, we're here! Miss Lynch, this is Eugene Dominez,
known to two continents as that rare specimen, an honest collector; to
me, the only man I can't beat at chess!"

A very small man rose from a great carved chair. He had a thin, leathery
face with an exaggerated nose, stretched out as though from sniffing for
curios in dusty dim corners. When he smiled his eyes shut and his mouth
twisted until he looked like a jolly little gnome.

"Ah-ha! You admit you cannot beat me!" He spoke with a soft accent. "And
this is the little lady who owns the green beads." And he peered closely
at Beryl.

The green beads! She had not thought of them once.

"Sit down. Sit down. I will