"I like that black and gold jar." "Um! It’s not bad, but there ought to be two of ’em." Posy wiped her pretty forehead. At the mention of the K’ang He jar, in which lay snug the key of the cabinet, she had trembled with apprehension. Hunsaker said quickly: "I’d like the chairs best of all. You bought them yesterday for nine hundred. Will you take eleven hundred?" "Yes," said Quinney, "I will." He pulled out a pocket-book and extracted a slip of paper from it. "You can have this, Mr. Hunsaker. Don’t destroy it! Keep it in your safe." Hunsaker took it. "Christopher’s receipt for my cheque. It proves that the chairs fetched the price named at public auction." "Thank you." "And now, to sweeten our first deal, I’ll make you a little present. You fancied that K’ang He bottle. It’s yours." He advanced towards the bottle. Posy said hurriedly: "Shall I go and clean it, father?" "Clean it? It’s as clean as you are, my pretty." "You are very generous," said Hunsaker. Quinney winked and chuckled joyously. "Biz! There are other things downstairs, Mr. Hunsaker. Are you buying these chairs for yourself?" As he spoke he held the bottle in both his hands, caressing it softly. "Why, certainly. Have them cased, please, and consigned to my agents in New York, who will see them through the Custom House. Any marks on that jar, Mr. Quinney?" Quinney handed to him the bottle. "I don’t think so; they never marked them bottles. It’s marked all over." Hunsaker turned it upside down, and the key of the cabinet fell out. "The missing key," said Quinney. "Now what fool stuffed it in there?" He replaced it in the lock of the cabinet. "Like to see the inside?" he asked. Posy was in torment. In desperation she blurted out: "Father, dear, Mr. Hunsaker may have other engagements." "I have," said Hunsaker. "Important ones, too. Thank you, Miss Quinney." He turned to her father. "May I call to-morrow at eleven, and have another look round?" "Glad to see you any time." As he was speaking, Susan drifted back. Hunsaker went up to her, speaking cordially: "This has been a very pleasant and informal visit, Mrs. Quinney. Do you ever go to the play?" "Sometimes," said Susan. "Often," added Posy. Her face was sparkling with smiles. Her cheeks were delicately flushed. Hunsaker said gaily: "Will you three nice people dine and do a play with me?" "You must leave me out," said Quinney. Posy answered for her mother and herself: "We shall be delighted, Mr. Hunsaker." The young man shook hands. He seemed to hold Posy’s hand a thought longer than was necessary. Quinney chuckled, because he was thinking that if his Posy were to be taken away by some enterprising young man she might well be captured by Cyrus P. Hunsaker, of Hunsaker. Inspired by this thought he enjoined his daughter to accompany the visitor as far as the shop. Characteristically, he blurted out what was in his mind, as soon as he found himself alone with Susan.