But no one wanted to do this, so both cars stopped while the two men and the girls went to the house. This time no subterfuge was used, but the question was plainly asked:
“Do you happen to have any old dishes for sale?”
“And furniture?” added Polly, anxiously.
The surprised woman laughed at the unusual query, but she nodded and said: “I got some black china, and several queer bowls and pots that I might sell—if you make it wuth while.”
The collectors all filed into the cottage, then, and the impatient travellers left in the cars had to cool their tempers well, before they saw their friends appear again. When they did come forth, however, they brought with them several old tobys, a few bowls, a number of pieces of black Staffordshire, an old knife-box of fine inlaid work, a mahogany dressing-mirror exquisitely stencilled and a knitted bed-coverlet with raised roses and scalloped edges.
“Oh now! This is expecting too much of Job!” called Mrs. Ashby, when she saw the consternation expressed on Jimmy and his sister’s faces.
“When we started on this tour you never said a word about founding a second-hand business,” added Mrs. Fabian, secretly amused at the collectors, and the chagrin so evident on the faces of their two “English cousins.”
“One never can tell what will happen when you take fanatics on a trip,” retorted Mr. Ashby, depositing his burden on the ground beside the car.
Then began another exodus of the passengers until a complete readjustment of all the various purchases could be made. While the two men were carefully packing away the precious objects, Polly said: “We had to leave behind the best piece of all—a chair of satin-wood with daintily turned legs and rungs. But they were splintered and the rush seat was broken through.”
“Don’t forget, Polly, that the thing that counted most—the beautifully stencilled back slats with their fruit and roses as clear as the day they were done, was in good preservation,” added Eleanor.