Terror, joy, dismay, and relief seemed, one after the other to fight for supremacy.

Relief in the end conquered, though even yet there was a second hurriedly apprehensive glance toward the door before she spoke.
"The Lowestoft! Yes, I'm so glad!--that is, of course I must be glad.
I'll get it." Her voice broke as she pulled herself from her chair.
There was only despairing sorrow on her face now.
The man rose at once.
"But, madam, perhaps--don't let me--" I he began stammeringly.

"Of course--Billy!" he broke off in an entirely different voice.

"Jove! What a beauty!" Mrs.Greggory had thrown open the door of a small cupboard near the collector's chair, disclosing on one of the shelves a beautifully shaped teapot, creamy in tint, and exquisitely decorated in a rose design.

Near it set a tray-like plate of the same ware and decoration.
"If you'll lift it down, please, yourself," motioned Mrs.Greggory.