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Updated: July 19, 2025
Hundreds of people had paid immense sums for pictures and objects of art at the Red Cross Sale at Christie's, one of the most successful social events of the year. The House of Commons was inquisitive about Mesopotamia as a whole, and one British Army was still trying to relieve another British Army besieged in Kut. German submarine successes were obviously disquieting.
One can so easily be outdone by one's grocer, or one of those marvellous Americans." "Yet I thought I read of you last week as giving nine hundred pounds for some unknown tapestry at Christie's." "But that is not extravagance," he protested. "That is not even spending money. It is exchanging one investment for another. The purple colouring of that tapestry is marvellous.
"It is not only that there are in this collection some unique and valuable stones; but the history, the setting, and the make of these ancient relics would induce the British Museum to buy many of them. Doubtless, however, Miss Howland will get the biggest price of all for them if they are auctioned at Christie's."
It was a cool, pleasant place in summer, and well suited to the purpose for which it had been built. It was dark, however, when the girls entered, and would have been very gloomy but for Christie's shining milk-pans and the rows of cream-covered dishes beyond. They were all needed, and some new ones had just been brought from the tinman's.
A curious little change had passed over Christie's face during these last questions and answers, unconscious, but quite observable to keen eyes like Mr. Power's.
She rocked him till his crying was hushed, and weary with struggling, he begged to be laid down. Christie arranged the pillows, and his mother placed him on the sofa. She would fain have lingered near him; but, weak from recent illness, she was obliged to lie down. In a little while he asked for water, and to his mother's surprise, was willing to take it from Christie's hands.
The days passed very slowly. Effie's letter seemed a long time in coming. In the meanwhile April came in, and as the days grew longer and milder, Christie's anxiety to hear grew more intense. It seemed to her that she must get away from the town and run home for a little while. The longing never left her.
We cannot change the world, far less remake it; but we can resuscitate a part of its moral wonders; and, while the property of Christie's Will, the last of the bold Armstrongs, is now possessed by another family, under a written title, we will do well to commit to record a part of his fame.
The English are good traders; they never waste their words; and as I looked I thought of the anguish which the patrons of the Hotel Drouot or Christie's would have felt could they have seen this marvellous collection. For these common men had made one of such taste and value that there could be no doubt where the things had been obtained. Every piece was good and a century or two old.
Sterling," began Christie in her gentlest tone, as her last fear vanished at sight of that mild maternal figure. "I am she; come in, friend; I am glad to see thee," said the old lady, smiling placidly, as she led the way into a room whose principal furniture seemed to be books, flowers, and sunshine. The look, the tone, the gentle "thee," went straight to Christie's heart; and, while Mrs.
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