"Ladies and gentlemen; you behold here the lion in his lair.""Be still, Bertram," ordered Cyril.
"He is a lion, really," confided Bertram, in a lower voice; "but as he prefers it, we'll just call him 'the Musical Man.'""I should think I was some sort of music-box that turned with a crank," bristled Cyril.
Bertram grinned.
"A--CRANK, did you say? Well, even I wouldn't have quite dared to say that, you know!"With an impatient gesture Cyril turned on his heel. Bertram fell once more into his pompous attitude.
"Before you is the Man's workshop," he orated. "At your right you see his instruments of tor-- I mean, his instruments: a piano, flute, etc. At your left is the desk with its pens, paper, erasers, ink and postage stamps. I mention these because there are--er--so few things to mention here. Beyond, through the open door, one may catch glimpses of still other rooms; but they hold even less than this one holds. Tradition doth assert, however, that in one is a couch-bed, and in another, two chairs."Billy listened silently. Her eyes were questioning. She was not quite sure how to take Bertram's words; and the bare rooms and their stern-faced master filled her with a vague pity. But the pause that followed Bertram's nonsense seemed to be waiting for her to fill it.
"Oh, I should like to hear you--play, Mr. Cyril," she stammered.
Then, gathering courage. "CAN you play 'The Maiden's Prayer'?"Bertram gave a cough, a spasmodic cough that sent him, red-faced, out into the hall. From there he called:
"Can't stop for the animals to perform, Miss Billy. It's 'most dinner time, and we've got lots to see yet.""All right; but--sometime," nodded Billy over her shoulder to Cyril as she turned away. "I just love that 'Maiden's Prayer'!""Now this is William's stratum," announced Bertram at the foot of the stairs. "You will perceive that there is no knocking here;William's doors are always open."
"By all means! Come in--come in," called William's cheery voice.
"Oh, my, what a lot of things!" exclaimed Billy. "My--my--what a lot of things! How Spunk will like this room!"Bertram chuckled; then he made a great display of drawing a long breath.
"In the short time at our disposal," he began loftily, "it will be impossible to point out each particular article and give its history from the beginning; but somewhere you will find four round white stones, which--""Er--yes, we know all about those white stones," interrupted William, "and you'll please let me talk about my own things myself!" And he beamed benevolently on the wondering-eyed girl at Bertram's side.
"But there are so many!" breathed Billy.
"All the more chance then," smiled William, "that somewhere among them you'll find something to interest you. Now these Chinese ceramics, and these bronzes--maybe you'd like those," he suggested.
And with a resigned sigh and an exaggerated air of submission, Bertram stepped back and gave way to his brother.
"And there are these miniatures, and these Japanese porcelains. Or perhaps you'd like stamps, or theatre programs better," William finished anxiously.
Billy did not reply. She was turning round and round, her eyes wide and amazed. Suddenly she pounced on a beautifully decorated teapot, and held it up in admiring hands.
"Oh, what a pretty teapot! And what a cute little plate it sets in!" she cried.
The collector fairly bubbled over with joy.
"That's a Lowestoft--a real Lowestoft!" he crowed. "Not that hard-paste stuff from the Orient that's CALLED Lowestoft, but the real thing--English, you know. And that's the tray that goes with it, too. Wonderful--how I got them both! You know they 'most always get separated. I paid a cool hundred for them, anyhow.""A hundred dollars for a teapot!" gasped Billy.
"Yes; and here's a nice little piece of lustre-ware. Pretty--isn't it? And there's a fine bit of black basalt. And--""Er--Will," interposed Bertram, meekly.
"Oh, and here's a Castleford," cried William, paying no attention to the interruption. "Marked, too; see? 'D. D. & Co., Castleford.'
You know there isn't much of that ware marked. This is a beauty, too, I think. You see this pitted surface--they made that with tiny little points set into the inner side of the mold. The design stands out fine on this. It's one of the best I ever saw. And, oh--""Er--William," interposed Bertram again, a little louder this time.
"May I just say--"
"And did you notice this 'Old Blue'?" hurried on William, eagerly.
"Lid sets down in, you see--that's older than the kind where it sets over the top. Now here's one--""William," almost shouted Bertram, "DINNER IS READY! Pete has sounded the gong twice already!""Eh? Oh, sure enough--sure enough," acknowledged William, with a regretful glance at his treasures. "Well, we must go, we must go.""But I haven't seen your stratum at all," demurred Billy to her guide, as they went down the stairway.
"Then there's something left for to-morrow," promised Bertram; "but you must remember, I haven't got any beautiful 'Old Blues' and 'black basalts,' to say nothing of stamps and baggage tags. But I'll make you some tea--some real tea--and that's more than William has done, with all his hundred and one teapots!"
