ys, in this letter," explained Mrs. Fabian after reading it, "the
old farm-house where the vendue will take place, is filled with real old
furniture; the family that owned the farm have held it for five
generations. Mr. Van Styne admits that he is not enough of a connoisseur
to judge the actual value of the antiques, but there are some mahogany
pieces, and loads of queer old things that _his_ wife would have kept in
the attic, or split up for kindlings. As he thinks this is what is now
called 'Period Furniture,' he would suggest that we run out and have a
look at it before the day of the sale."

"The letter sounds exactly like him, doesn't it?" laughed Polly.

"Yes, but it is very nice of him to be so honest about it. Most
auctioneers would tell us the furniture was wonderful," returned Mrs.
Fabian.

"When do you think we can run out there, Mrs. Fabian?" asked Eleanor,
eagerly.

"We'll find out what day Carl can best arrange for the trip. We mustn't
'drive a willing horse to death,' you know."

Later in the evening, the telephone bell rang and Polly was called to the
'phone. The maid who answered the ring said it was a man's voice but she
had not been able to understand the name.

Eleanor heard her chum say: "Oh, really! We've been wondering what became
of you. It was so surprising to find you were an old friend of our Mr.
Dalken's and then never hear from you again, or have anyone know where
you had gone."

Mrs. Fabian glanced questioningly at Eleanor, but the girl shook her head
in token of her ignorance of who the caller could be. Then they heard
Polly say: "Why, I reckon so. If you'll hold the wire a moment, I'll run
and ask Mrs. Fabian."

A few moments later, Polly rushed into the room and said eagerly: "Jack
Baxter is on the 'phone and wants to know if he may come in, tomorrow
evening, Mrs. Fabian. He says he has a little furniture commission for
Nolla and me to take care of."

Mrs. Fabian immediately replied that the young man would be welcomed the
following evening, and Polly hurried back to deliver the invitation.
Eleanor waited until she heard the conversation over the telephone
resumed between the two, then she said to Mrs. Fabian:

"I bet anything, that Jack Baxter is really in love with Polly! I watched
him all that time, after he was formally introduced by Mr. Dalken, and he
just hung on her every word and act."

Mrs. Fabian smiled. "That is the usual experience the young men have with
Polly.