It was a large room, with a good sprinkling of people, but not crowded
except about the table. At the head of this table--full twenty feet
long--was the auctioneer's pulpit, and the lots were brought in turn to
the other end of the table for sight and sale.

"We must try and get a seat," said the enterprising Mrs. Cole, and
pushed boldly in; the timid Rosa followed strictly in her wake, and so
evaded the human waves her leader clove. They were importuned at every
step by brokers thrusting catalogues on them, with offers of their
services, yet they soon got to the table. A gentleman resigned one
chair, a broker another, and they were seated.

Mrs. Staines let down half her veil, but Mrs. Cole surveyed the company
point-blank.

The broker who had given up his seat, and now stood behind Rosa, offered
her his catalogue. "No, thank you," said Rosa; "I have one;" and she
produced it, and studied it, yet managed to look furtively at the
company.

There were not above a dozen private persons visible from where
Rosa sat; perhaps as many more in the whole room. They were easily
distinguishable by their cleanly appearance: the dealers, male or
female, were more or less rusty, greasy, dirty, aquiline. Not even the
amateurs were brightly dressed; that fundamental error was confined to
Mesdames Cole and Staines. The experienced, however wealthy, do not hunt
bargains in silk and satin.

The auctioneer called "Lot 7. Four saucepans, two trays, a kettle, a
bootjack, and a towel-horse."

These were put up at two shillings, and speedily knocked down for five
to a fat old woman in a greasy velvet jacket; blind industry had sewed
bugles on it, not artfully, but agriculturally.

"The lady on the left!" said the auctioneer to his clerk. That meant
"Get the money."

The old lady plunged a huge paw into a huge pocket, and pulled out a
huge handful of coin--copper, silver, and gold--and paid for the lot;
and Rosa surveyed her dirty hands and nails with innocent dismay. "Oh,
what a dreadful creature!" she whispered; "and what can she want with
those old rubbishy things? I saw a hole in one from here." The broker
overheard, and said, "She is a dealer, ma'am, and the things were given
away. She'll sell them for a guinea, easy."

"Didn't I tell you?" said Mrs. Cole.

Soon after this the superior lots came on, and six very neat bedroom
chairs were sold to all appearance for fifteen shillings.

The next lot was identical, and Rosa hazar