"Yes, indeed, we are." "Won't that be nice?" was the best Gladwin could do, for he was trying to think along a dozen different lines at the same time. "We will be gone for ever so long, you know," volunteered Helen. "Are you going to take his collection of miniatures?" the young man asked in unconscious admiration of the colossal nerve of the gentleman who had so nonchalantly appropriated his name. "Miniatures?" asked Helen, wonderingly. "Yes, of course," ran on Gladwin; "and the china and the family plate--nearly two hundred years old." "Why, I don't think he ever mentioned the miniatures, or, or"---- "That is singular," broke in Gladwin, striving to conceal the sarcasm that crept into his voice. "Strange he overlooked the china, plate and miniatures. I don't understand it, do you?" and he turned to Barnes, who had caught the last of the dialogue and shifted his immediate mental interest from the shy Sadie. "No, I really don't, old man," said Barnes. "Do let me show you the miniatures," Gladwin addressed Helen upon a sudden inspiration. "That will be splendid," cried Helen. "I adore miniatures." "They are just in the next room," said Gladwin, leading the way to a door to the left of the great onyx fireplace. As she followed, Helen called to her cousin: "Come along, Sadie, this will be a treat!" But the next moment she was alone with Travers Gladwin in the long, narrow room, two windows of which, protected by steel lattice work on the inside, looked out on a side street. The girl did not notice that as the young man preceded her he reached his hand under the screening portière and touched a spring that noiselessly swung open the heavy mahogany door and switched on half a dozen clusters of lights. Neither did she notice that Sadie had failed to follow her as her eyes fairly popped with wonder at the treasures presented to her gaze. On one side of the room there was a long row of tables and cabinets, and almost at every step there was an antique chest. On the tables there were huddled in artistic disorder scores upon scores of gold and silver vessels and utensils of every conceivable design and workmanship. Each cabinet contained a collection of exquisite china or rare ceramics. On the walls above was the most notable collection of miniatures in America. Travers Gladwin waited for the young girl to have finished her first outburst of admiration. Then he said softly: "I suppose you know that five generations of Gladwins have been collecting these few trinkets?" "He never even mentioned them!" gasped the girl. "Why the paintings are nothing to these!" "I wouldn't say that," chuckled Gladwin. "It would take a deal of this gold and silver junk to buy a Rembrandt or a Corot. There are a couple of Cellini medallions, though, just below that miniature of Madame de Pompadour that a good many collectors would sell their souls to possess."