Lillian Roy - Polly in New York

“Might as well, Anne – we are right here, you see,” added Eleanor.

So they turned the corner and walked down the street to reach the Studio in time to see the painters finish the work on the ground floor.

“How nice and fresh it looks. But the wallpaper looks dusty,” said Mrs. Stewart.

“It is dusty, madam. I was just sayin’ to my friend here you ought to have someone clean it all off with bread crumbs. It is a swell paper if it is clean,” remarked the painter.

“Bread-crumbs?” ejaculated Anne.

“Yes’m. Best thing known to clean fine paper. I’ll get a man to do it if you say so. He knows his job.”

“I wish you would. And ask him to supply the bread, too, as we are stopping at a hotel where it is hard to get such things.”

“An’ I was goin’ to mention – the porcelain tubs and basins oughta be cleaned fer you’se. When we finish painting I will scour and polish ’em, if you say so.”

“Yes, please do! And the floors ought to be polished, too.”

“We’ll take care of all that, if you just tell us to go ahead and clean up as we see fit,” said the painter.

“All right; but don’t make us wait too long before we can move in. We are going to have a house-warming, here, next week,” explained Eleanor, anxiously.

“I’ve got an extra man comin’ on to-morrow, and we’ll be out of here by Saturday. Especially if we work Sat’aday afternoon – but that means double pay, you know.”

“Never mind that; finish the job as soon as possible, for we will save that much extra money in hotel bills,” said Anne.

“All right! We’ll turn it over for you Sat’aday night!”

Everything seemed to be going so well, not only with their Studio-home, but with furnishings and decorators, that the girls felt elated.

The next day they again met Mr. Fabian at the Art Galleries, and he proved a very welcome member to their party, as he knew all about rugs, porcelains, and antiques. Having shown them and explained all about the few rare pieces still for sale in the auction rooms, he said:

“Some day you must go with me to some of the other places. There are dozens of these shops in New York, and each one seems to incline to some particular line of furnishing. Then, too, one can see more wonderful antiques in these shabby little shops along the avenue, than one would believe possible.

“I often pick up rare things in these places. They are run, mostly, by Hebrews who merely know when an object is antique, or in demand. But they seldom can tell you the period or name of many of their most valuable items. It was in this way that a friend of mine once discovered a treasure.

“His wife wanted a necklace for Christmas – something odd and different than any that her friends had. So he came to me and said: ‘Fabian, I can’t afford Tiffany prices, but I wish I could find something unusual. I want to please my wife, because she has been such a good sport during the time I was hanging over the edge of bankruptcy. Now what would you suggest?’

“I offered to go with him. So we sauntered out of the Studio and walked over here, to Fourth avenue. We stopped in every little collector’s shop along the street, but could not find just what appealed to him. Then we entered that shop across the street – the one near the corner.

“I knew the old Hebrew well, having often looked over his trays filled with every old thing conceivable. So I said upon entering: ‘Got any odd kind of necklace or chain, Moses? Something to go around a lady’s neck, you know?’ I had to demonstrate my words as I spoke.

“‘Ya, ya! Shure, I got a chain. I show him you?’

“It was a long antique-silver chain, the great flat links being beautifully filigreed. But it was not what my friend wanted, so I bought it for Nancy. Then the shop-keeper looked wistful.

“‘Ain’t I got it what you like? Tell me what for you want him?’

“My friend replied: ‘For my wife. She goes to balls and like pearls, or other stones, in a necklace.’

“‘Ah, ha! I got yust what you like. A pearl necklace vot come in las’ veek wid a lot of odder fine tings.’ Then the old man rooted around under the counter until he found the tray he wanted. It was coated with dust from the floor, but he blew this off and carelessly placed the heaped-up tray before us.

“Such a tangle of all kinds of jewelry I never did see! Finally I got the string of pearls free from the snarls of ordinary glass beads and other trash, and handed it over to my friend. He curled a lip in scorn at the soiled trinket.

“‘Avery, drive a bargain with him for this. I honestly think those pearls are quite good. Let me rub one up on my sleeve, while you draw the fellow’s attention from what I am doing,’ I whispered.

“While Avery tried to bargain, I cleaned up one of the gems and felt sure they were unusually good even for artificial pearls.

“We actually bought the string for twelve dollars, but my friend feared lest he had been taken in. So I smiled and said: ‘Leave them with me and I’ll see that they are polished up like new by to-morrow night. I’ll take them to an old jeweler down the street and have them washed and the gold links cleaned. Your wife won’t know but that they came from Tiffany’s.

“Avery laughed and left them with me. So I hurried down to Union Square and showed them to the old jeweler I knew, there.

“He puckered his brow at first, then ran for his magnifying glasses. After an unusually keen inspection he called to his associate. Both of them then examined the string most carefully, and the old man finally looked up.

“‘If I didn’t know you to be an honest man I should say: “Where did you steal them?” – but I will ask: “How came you by these?”

“I was astonished, as you may know, but I tried to appear wise, so I laughingly replied: ‘They are not mine, my dear, sir. I only wish they were! I just got them from a friend to have someone, who is responsible, clean them nicely. I must hand them back as soon as you have finished.’

“‘Mr. Fabian, I can’t undertake such a job. I have no bonded man to do such work and I dare not send them out. They may be substituted, you know.’

“Then I couldn’t help saying: ‘My good man! You don’t value them so highly as that, do you? Why, I carried them downtown in my pocket!’

“‘Ha, ha!’ he laughed, ‘I never saw a better matched string of perfect pearls in my life and I am nigh onto sixty. If I had to handle that necklace, I should instantly insure it with a broker for a hundred thousand dollars.’

“Fancy, my friends, how I felt! My knees gave way and I had to sit down. I loosened my collar which seemed suddenly to grow too tight, but I couldn’t say a word.”

Polly and Eleanor stood listening with eyes bulging and mouths half-open. Anne and her mother were also deeply interested.

Mr. Fabian smiled to himself before he continued his tale, “Well, I took the pearls and hailed a taxi. I was taken to Tiffany’s, and asked for the manager, at once. Of course they wanted to know why I wished to see him, and I said, courageously: ‘To turn over a valuable pearl necklace and insure it for a hundred thousand.’

“That brought the manager running. We went to a small private room and I placed the string of pearls before him. He took it carefully, examined it casually, then more minutely. He seemed perturbed and got up. ‘Don’t leave this room and do not allow anyone to come in and see it. I’ll be back in a moment with our expert.’

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