He changed the subject. "Are you fond of old silver?" he asked. "I've been admiring those Georgian candlesticks. The pattern is very rare."
"I've been collecting bits here and there," he went on. "No doubt you can tell me some wonderful things about old silver. Most Southerners can. But one thing I have discovered for myself, that Southerners may part with their homes, their clothes, and even their souls, but their silver—never. I know where there are some splendid collections in the South, but you can't get them."
Dorothy's appetite for food suddenly disappeared. She laid down her fork and looked so distressed that Alexander wondered what dreadful thing he had said.
"I want to—to tell you," said the girl finally, "where I happen to know you may find a beautiful collection of Georgian silver. It is at Bern's, on Fifth avenue. It all came from one family, and it seems to me the things ought to stay together." Then suddenly and brightly, as if to put a distasteful thought behind her, "I wish you could know Waily and Bob. Poor Bob!"
"Why poor?"
"Oh, he loves nice things so. We all do! But I really meant it literally, you know. We are poor, very. You see that's why I'm—" She stopped.
Virginia pride was uppermost. "Nothing," she answered his eager inquiry. 