"Elegant!" He glanced at the beautiful room with enthusiasm. It made inordinate demands upon his vocabulary. He racked his brains for the right words which came. Very solemnly, he observed:
"You have here, Mr. Quinney, an incomparable reservation."
"Yes," Quinney replied, with equal gravity, "this is my private collection, Mr. Hunsaker; everything I value most in the world, including my wife and daughter. Lordy! How I hate rubbish! Rubbish is beastly!" He pointed to the lacquer cabinet, purposely distracting the young man's attention from the chairs. "Now a cabinet like that makes me think of heaven. I can say my prayers to it!"
Susan said, with a touch of her mother's majesty:
"Joe, how you do go on!"
"Yes, my dear, I go on and up! We'd be stewin' in our own juice in a silly old sleepy town if it hadn't been for me. On and—up! What a motter for a Christmas cracker! Married the right woman, too, a perfect lady!"
"Joe—please!"
Hunsaker was much amused. He had liked the little man at first sight; he was quite as delighted with his family. Quinney continued in high good humour:
"I chose her"—he pointed at Susan, who blushed. "And the result," he pointed at Posy, who did not blush, "justifies my choice—hey?"
"You bet it does," said Hunsaker. "Miss Quinney is by all odds the most precious object in this wonderful room—the gem, if I may say so, of your remarkable collection."