ngs and in the passages of
Irish wit with which the new clerk welcomed him whenever he appeared in
the store, and so did Kling, and even the two Dutchies when Felix would
drop into the cellar searching for what was still good enough to be made
over new. And so did Kitty and John and all at their home.

Masie alone noticed nothing. To her, "Uncle Felix," as she now called
him, was always the same adorable and comprehending companion, forever
opening up to her new vistas of interest, never too busy to answer her
questions, never too preoccupied to explain the different objects he was
handling. If she were ever in the way, she was never made to feel it.
Instead, so gentle and considerate was he, that she grew to believe
herself his most valuable assistant, daily helping him to arrange the
various new acquisitions.

One morning in June when they were busy over a lot of small curios,
arranging bits of jade, odd silver watches, seals, and pinchbeck rings,
in a glass case that had been cleaned and revarnished, the door
opened and an old fellow strolled in--an odd-looking old fellow, with
snow-white hair and beard, wearing a black sombrero and a shirt cut very
low in the neck. But for a pair of kindly eyes, which looked out at you
from beneath the brim of the hat, he might have been mistaken for one
of the dwarfs in "Rip Van Winkle." Fudge, having now been disciplined by
Felix, only sniffed at his trousers.

"I see an old gold frame in your window," began the new customer. "Might
I measure it?"

"Which one, sir?" replied Felix. "There are half a dozen of them, I
believe."

"Well; will you please come outside? And I will point it out. It is the
Florentine, there in the corner--perhaps a reproduction, but it looks to
me like the real thing."

"It is a Florentine," answered Felix. "There are two or three pictures
in the Uffizi with similar frames, if I recall them aright. Would you
like a look at it?"

"I don't want to trouble you to take it out," said the old man
apologetically. "It might not do, and I can't afford to pay much for
it anyway. But I would like to measure it; I've got an Academy picture
which I think will just fit it, but you can't always tell. No, I
guess I'll let it go. It's all covered up, and you would have to move
everything to reach it."

"No, I won't have to move a thing. Here, you bunch of sunshine! Squeeze
in there, Masie, dear, and let me know how wide and high that frame
is--the one next the gl