In the low-ceiled, wide dining-room, they found the typical round mahogany table with twelve chairs—two arm and ten side chairs. The seats were covered with rep, but must have had haircloth on them at one time. The backs were very low and curved away from the small of the back in a frightened manner. There was but one cross-piece in the back and that was curved also.
The side-board was nearly eight feet long, with six claw feet, and a high top. On it stood a tea-caddy of mahogany, a knife-box, and several silver boxes. All of them must have been over a hundred years old. Very old china and glassware stood on the large table, ready to be sold. The collectors saw many desirable pieces there, but they were too anxious to visit the upstairs to stop, then, and examine the plates and other pieces.
There were four large square rooms on the second floor and in each one, stood a wonderful four-poster bed—two with canopy-tops and two without. Empire work-tables were in two rooms, and besides the high chests of mahogany drawers, and low dressing-tables with tiny front drawers to hold the comb and brush, there were also ottomans, foot-stools, and ornamental pieces. Mirrors hung over each mantel, and old-fashioned prints and paintings were on the walls.
By the time Mrs. Fabian and the girls went downstairs again, they were dumbfounded to find that a farm-house so near to Morristown and railroad stations, should have preserved such a wonderful lot of old mahogany furniture without having been discovered by collectors. But being strangers to the other people now gathering for the sale, they did not speak of their wonderment.
Mr. Van Styne was late, and as soon as he arrived he began in the kitchen, without any greeting to his followers. There seemed to be a far different type of buyer at this sale, than the girls had found at any of the little sales in Westchester; and once the auctioneer began on the antique pieces, the prices ran up alarmingly.
“That man standing over there just paid a hundred and sixty dollars for that Colonial secretary,” whispered Polly, annoyance expressed in her tone for she had been bidding on the same piece.
“He doesn’t look as if he had sixty cents in his purse,” said Eleanor, scornfully.
A lady standing beside her, looked at the buyer and smiled. “That man is one of the buyers of one of the largest antique collectors in New York.”
“He is!” gasped Eleanor.
“Who is the collector?” asked Polly, but the woman saw a little Toby put up for sale, just then, and she wanted to bid on it, so Polly never heard.