l and stretched hesitant fingers
into the dusty quiet of the great East Indian room, gilding the soft
tones of the faded chintz, touching very gently the polished furniture
and the dim prints on the walls. He swung across the threshold without a
word, Daphne tiptoeing behind him.

"How still it is," he said in a hushed voice. "How sweet it smells!"

"It's the potpurri in the Canton jars," she told him shyly. "I always
made it every summer for Lady Audrey--she thought I did it better than
any one else. I think so too." She flushed at the mirth in his eyes, but
held her ground sturdily. "Flowers are sweeter for you if you love
them--even dead ones," she explained bravely.

"They would be dead indeed, if they were not sweet for you." Her cheeks
burned bright at the low intensity of his voice, but he turned suddenly
away. "Oh, there she sails--there she sails still, my beauty. Isn't she
the proud one though--straight into the wind!" He hung over the little
ship model, thrilled as any child. "_The Flying Lady_--see where it's
painted on her? Grandfather gave it to me when I was seven--he had it
from his father when he was six. Lord, how proud I was!" He stood back
to see it better, frowning a little. "One of those ropes is wrong; any
fool could tell that--" His hands hovered over it for a moment--dropped.
"No matter--the new owners are probably not seafarers! The lacquer
chest is at the far end, isn't it? Yes, here. Are three enough--four?
We're off!" But still he lingered, sweeping the great room with his
dark eyes. "It's full of all kinds of junk--they never liked it--no
period, you see. I had the run of it--I loved it as though it were
alive; it was alive, for me. From Elizabeth's day down, all the family
adventurers brought their treasures here--beaten gold and hammered
silver--mother-of-pearl and peacock feathers, strange woods and stranger
spices, porcelains and embroideries and blown glass. There was always an
adventurer somewhere in each generation--and however far he wandered, he
came back to Green Gardens to bring his treasures home. When I was a
yellow-headed imp of Satan, hiding my marbles in the lacquer chest, I
used to swear that when I grew up I would bring home the finest treasure
of all, if I had to search the world from end to end. And now the last
adventurer has come home to Green Gardens--and he has searched the world
from end to end--and he is empty-handed."

"No, no," whispered Daphne. "He has brough