"I am sorry to say she is not well," said Martha. "I am her companion, Miss Farnum."
Clayton bowed again and murmured something unintelligible.
"Mrs. Kilpatrick asked me to show you the scarabs. Afterwards you can tell her what you think of them."
"I shall be glad to do so. I shall probably envy them."
"Mrs. Kilpatrick tells me you are quite a collector."
"Yes," answered Clayton, slowly. "I have collected almost everything in my time, except money."
"It must be interesting," said Martha naïvely, sitting in one of the easy rockers and opening the case, while Clayton drew his chair alongside.
"First it was postage stamps," explained Clayton, picking up one of the queer little beetles and examining it intently. "But postage stamps soon proved tiresome. Then came Indian relics, but they lost favor when I took up antique weapons of war. Then I went in for emeralds and jewels, but they proved too expensive. I think I have had twenty fads in the last ten years."
"But your business—hasn't that suffered?" Martha smiled.
"Not a particle. I've had a glorious time, and my clients who knew of my fads thought all the more of me because they fancied I must be a brainy chap to have them." He laughed.