The upshot was that Sir Arthur, overborne at last by the force of his daughter's reasoning, agreed to buy the monster, for what in the opinion of the seller, was a ridiculously inadequate sum. It was to be carefully packed in a crate, and sent down to Homefield near Byfleet, Surrey. So much for the Hoodoo. And then the eye of a famous connoisseur lit on the picture that the old dealer had laid on the gate-legged table.
"What have we here?" said Sir Arthur, fixing his eyeglass.
Uncle Si became a sphinx. The connoisseur took the picture in his hand, and while he examined it with grave curiosity he too became a sphinx. So tense grew the silence to June's ear that again she was troubled by the loud beating of her heart.
At last the silence was broken by the light and charming note of Miss Babraham. "Why, surely," she said, "that is the funny old picture I saw when I was here the other day."
"We have cleaned it up a bit since then, madam," said Uncle Si in a voice so toneless that June could only marvel at the perfect self-command of this arch dissembler.
Sir Arthur, it was clear, was tremendously interested. He turned the picture over and over, and used the microscope very much as M. Duponnet had done. Finally he said in a voice nearly as toneless as that of Uncle Si himself. "What do you ask for this, Mr. Gedge?"
"Not for sale, sir," was the decisive answer.
The nod of Sir Arthur implied that it was the answer he expected. "Looks to me a fine example." A true amateur, he could not repress a little sigh of
