“Girls, see that seat—scooped out to fit the body, but it is worn thin with age along its front edge; and even the arms and legs are splintered down from centuries of hard usage,” remarked Mr. Ashby.
While the two men and the dealer were bargaining over the chair, Mrs. Alexander wandered back to the front room. There she found Ruth upon her knees examining a wonderful, old carved chest.
“Isn’t this a darling, Mrs. Alex?” exclaimed the girl.
“What is it?” asked the woman, hardly interested.
“Why, it’s a fine old wedding-chest with exquisite panels on its front and sides. The carving, alone, is unusual.”
“A wedding chest, eh. What would you use it for?” asked Mrs. Alexander, taking a deeper interest in the article since the girl explained what the object was.
“Why, any girl would be glad to start a hope-chest with this,” laughed Ruth. “I’m going to ask Daddy to buy it for me, if it isn’t too costly.”
Mrs. Alexander’s fears took fire at that suggestive word, “hope-chest,” from Ruth, and she turned instantly to rejoin the dealer in the back room. He had just finished writing the directions for the shipping of the chair he had sold, when she hurried across the room.
“Mr. Maxton, you have a carved chest in the front room. I want to buy it—how much is it?” As she spoke, Mrs. Alexander took a purse out of her bag and displayed a roll of bills.
The clever dealer saw this opportunity to drive a good bargain, and he named his figure. Without demur, the lady counted down the money and asked for a receipt.