Polly appreciated the sense of Mr. Ashby's little lecture, but Eleanor still felt disappointed with her purchases. And Dodo laughed outright at the old pewter she had gone wild over in England, and now scorned in America. That evening Mr. Fabian explained, carefully, about the times and customs of the purchases that represented certain people. He wove a tale of romance about each piece of furniture the girls had delighted in, and enhanced their interest in the dishes and other small objects they had collected that summer, until the three disappointed owners felt a renewed attraction in the articles. Mr. Ashby was present, but he said nothing until Mr. Fabian had ended. Then he added in a suggestive manner: "Fabian, what do you say to the girls taking short trips to the country, each week, to hunt up such antiques as can be found in out-of-the-way nooks all through New England?" The girls perked up their ears at this, and waited to hear Mr. Fabian's reply. "If they had a car and someone to accompany them on such excursions, I think they would thoroughly enjoy it." "Dalken has three cars--two limousines, you know; and he told me that he wished he could prevail upon the girls to make use of one, instead of his leaving it in a garage to eat up its value in rent. I thought of this way to give the girls many interesting quests, and make use of the car at the same time, so I mentioned it to him. He was delighted and wants the girls to try the plan," explained Mr. Ashby. "And I will offer myself as chaperone," hastily added Mrs. Fabian. "If I could only be included in these outings I should love it," laughed Nancy Fabian. "You are! Any one who belongs to us, must consider themselves as invited," said Polly, laughingly. So an outing for Saturday was planned, that night, and Mrs. Fabian and Nancy were to manage the details for the girls. "We will choose a likely country-side for our first trial," remarked Mrs. Fabian, looking at her husband for advice. "That's hard sense," laughed he. "But where is such a spot?" "Somewhere in New England," ventured Nancy. "That's as ambiguous as 'Somewhere in France,'" retorted Polly. "Not when you consider that New England begins just the other side of the city-line of Portchester," said Mr. Fabian. "But there are no antiques to be found in Rye, Portchester or Greenwich, in these days of amateur collectors hunting over those sections," remarked Mrs. Fabian. "You are not limited to those nearby towns; but you can travel fifty miles in the inland sections in a short time, and stop at simple little farm-houses to inquire, as we did this summer while touring England. I wager you'll come home with enough trophies of war to start you off again, in a day or two," explained Mr. Fabian.