Owen Davies took them through the great unused rooms and showed them the pictures, but she had seen them before, and though some of them were very fine, did not care to look at them again--at any rate, not that afternoon.

But Elizabeth gazed at them with eager eyes and mentally appraised their value, wondering if they would ever be hers.
"What is this picture ?" she asked, pointing to a beautiful portrait of a Dutch Burgomaster by Rembrandt.
"That," answered Davies heavily, for he knew nothing of painting and cared less, "that is a Velasquez, valued for probate at L3,000--no," referring to the catalogue and reading, "I beg your pardon, the next is the Velasquez; that is a Rembrandt in the master's best style, showing all his wonderful mastery over light and shade.

It was valued for probate at L4,000 guineas." "Four thousand guineas!" said Elizabeth, "fancy having a thing worth four thousand guineas hanging on a wall!" And so they went on, Elizabeth asking questions and Owen answering them by the help of the catalogue, till, to Beatrice's relief, they came at length to the end of the pictures.

Then they took some tea in the little sitting room of the master of all this magnificence.

Owen, to her great annoyance, sat opposite to Beatrice, staring at her with all his eyes while she drank her tea, with Effie sitting in her lap, and Elizabeth, observing it, bit her lip in jealousy.