The girl's face glowed with shamed crimson. She felt haughty and
humiliated and angry all at once. It was not to be borne.

Mrs. Dix was not listening to Fanny Dodge.

"I bid in the big, four-post mahogany bed at the auction," she said,
"and the bureau to match; an' I believe there are two or three chairs
about the house."

"We've got a table," chimed in Mrs. Dodge; "but one leg give away,
an' I had it put up in the attic years ago. And Fanny's got a bed and
bureau in her room that was painted white, with little pink flowers
tied up with blue ribbons. Of course the paint is pretty well rubbed
off; but--"

"Oh, might I have that set?" cried Lydia, turning to Fanny. "Perhaps
you've grown fond of it and won't want to give it up. But I--I'd pay
almost anything for it. And of course I shall want the mahogany,
too."

"Well, we didn't know," explained Mrs. Dix, with dignity. "We got
those pieces instead of the money we'd ought to have had from the
estate. There was a big crowd at the auction, I remember; but nobody
really wanted to pay anything for the old furniture. A good deal of
it had come out of folks' attics in the first place."

"I shall be glad to pay three hundred dollars for the mahogany bed
and bureau," said Lydia. "And for the little white set--"