“Oh, what a pretty teapot! And what a cute little plate it sets in!” she cried.
The collector fairly bubbled over with joy.
“That's a Lowestoft—a real Lowestoft!” he crowed. “Not that hard-paste stuff from the Orient that's CALLED Lowestoft, but the real thing—English, you know. And that's the tray that goes with it, too. Wonderful—how I got them both! You know they 'most always get separated. I paid a cool hundred for them, anyhow.”
“A hundred dollars for a teapot!” gasped Billy.
“Yes; and here's a nice little piece of lustre-ware. Pretty—isn't it? And there's a fine bit of black basalt. And—”
“Er—Will,” interposed Bertram, meekly.
“Oh, and here's a Castleford,” cried William, paying no attention to the interruption. “Marked, too; see? 'D. D. & Co., Castleford.' You know there isn't much of that ware marked. This is a beauty, too, I think. You see this pitted surface—they made that with tiny little points set into the inner side of the mold. The design stands out fine on this. It's one of the best I ever saw. And, oh—”
“Er—William,” interposed Bertram again, a little louder this time. “May I just say—”
“And did you notice this 'Old Blue'?” hurried on William, eagerly. “Lid sets down in, you see—that's older than the kind where it sets over the top. Now here's one—”
“William,” almost shouted Bertram, “DINNER IS READY! Pete has sounded the gong twice already!”