"COLUMBINE?" INQUIRED GRACE. "AND HERE - BLEEDING HEART?"

Eleanor shook her head. "Looks rather like rows of false teeth," she answered. She observed that the underside of the tray contained four simple little black legs touched with gold. They were collapsible, so the tray could be used for serving or as a decorative wall piece.

"It would look nice by a fireplace," said Grace.

"Will you and Freddie have a fireplace?" asked Eleanor. She regarded the modest price tag and said, "I've seen modern trays in New York for three times as much." Her eyes brightened. "Would you like it, Gracie?" she asked. "I've been wondering what to give you besides the family tea service."

Shortly thereafter, they stood outside the shop and hailed a taxi, which conveyed them, the Wedgwood, and the tea tray to their hotel. Three days later, they crossed the St. Lawrence and were on their way to New York.

In due time, Grace and Freddie married. When they returned from their honeymoon, they settled in a pleasant apartment on Chicago's Gold Coast. It was filled with fine linen, porcelain, and such elegant items as a Sheraton desk, a Sheffield tray, the family tea service, and the tea tray. Also, six table lighters, 18 candlesticks, five cigarette boxes, four traveling clocks, and two occasional tables.

In late spring, Mrs. Anderson and Eleanor returned to the Thousand Islands to open their summer home. They'd been there only a few days when Mrs. Anderson said, "Let's go back to Ottawa. That nice woman who owns the shop said a few pieces of my Wedgwood pattern might come in.

So they returned to the antiques shop. Mrs. Anderson was browsing among Spode, Minton, and Sevres when she perceived the stately form of the establishment's owner, Miss March. Mrs. Anderson said brightly, "I'm sure you don't remember me, but I was here last fall--looking for Wedgwood pieces. My name is Anderson," and then quailed before the steely look she received.

"I remember you quite well," replied Miss March. "You bought Mrs. Tamerlane's tea tray."

There was something accusing about the statement. Mrs. Anderson said feebly, "Mrs. Tamerlane's--oh, the tea tray. My cousin, Miss Jones, bought that as a wedding present for my daughter, who now lives in Chicago. She has so enjoyed it."

"It was not for sale," said Miss March. Eleanor overheard. She moved forward and inquired practically, "Then why was it sold to me?"

My fault," Miss March admitted. "It appears that the tea tray had been brought in by a customer some weeks before, for repair. It had been a wedding gift to her mother. About half an hour before your arrival, Miss Jones, I saw it standing in a corner. I had not been in the shop when Mrs. Tamerlane's daughter brought it in. 1 noted that it was not priced, and I put a tag on it. Twenty minutes later, it was sold. The following week, our customer inquired about her mother's tray."

Eleanor said, "But you had my Address--"

"Naturally" was the testy response. "But you had purchased the item in good faith. The error was mine, so I gave Mrs. Tamerlane a rather good little table and took my loss."

When Mrs. Anderson returned to the hotel, she sent a long letter to Grace.

"Now, Grace," she wrote dramatically, "you own Mrs. Tamerlane's tea tray!"

But Grace didn't own it. A wire was waiting for Mrs. Anderson when she got back to the Thousand Islands. It was from Grace, explaining that she and Fred were about to leave for Hawaii, where Fred, an engineer, had been transferred.

Grace and Fred had shipped the furniture they thought might be useful, stored other pieces, and given away the remainder. To her closest friend in Chicago, an ex-schoolmate, now in business, who lived alone and was trying to remedy it, Grace had given the tea tray.