about, catching the drops
from the skylights.

'Hang the rain!' exclaimed Jawleyford, as he saw it trickling over a river
scene of Van Goyen's (gentlemen in a yacht, and figures in boats), and
drip, drip, dripping on to the head of an infant Bacchus below.

'He wants an umbrella, that young gentleman,' observed Sponge, as
Jawleyford proceeded to dry him with his handkerchief.

'Fine thing,' observed Jawleyford, starting off to a side, and pointing to
it; 'fine thing--Italian marble--by Frere--cost a vast of money--was
offered three hundred for it. Are you a judge of these things?' asked
Jawleyford; 'are you a judge of these things?'

'A little,' replied Sponge, 'a little'; thinking he might as well see what
his intended father-in-law's personal property was like.

'There's a beautiful thing!' observed Jawleyford, pointing to another
group. 'I picked that up for a mere nothing--twenty guineas--worth two
hundred at least. Lipsalve, the great picture-dealer in Gammon Passage,
offered me Murillo's "Adoration of the Virgin and Shepherds," for which he
showed me a receipt for a hundred and eighty-five, for it.'

'Indeed!' replied Sponge, 'what is it?'

'It's a Bacchanal group, after Poussin, sculptured by Marin. I bought it at
Lord Breakdown's sale; it happened to be a wet day--much such a day as
this--and things went for nothing. This you'll know, I presume?' observed
Jawleyford, laying his hand on a life-size bust of Diana, in Italian
marble.

'No, I don't,' replied Sponge.

'No!' exclaimed Jawleyford; 'I thought everybody had known this: this is my
celebrated "Diana," by Noindon--one of the finest things in the world.
Louis Philippe sent an agent over to this country expressly to buy it.'

'Why didn't you sell it him?' asked Sponge.

'Didn't want the money,' replied Jawleyford, 'didn't want the money. In
addition to which, though a king, he was a bit of a screw, and we couldn't
agree upon terms. This,' observed Jawleyford, 'is a vase of the Cinque
Cento period--a very fine thing; and this,' laying his hand on the crown of
a much frizzed, barber's-window-looking bust, 'of course you know?'

'No, I don't,' replied Sponge.

'No!' exclaimed Jawleyford, in astonishment.

'No,' repeated Sponge.

'Look again, my dear fellow; you _must_ know it,' observed Jawleyford.

'I suppose it's meant for you,' at last replied Sponge, seeing his host's
anxiety.

'_Meant!_ my dear fellow; why, don't you think it like?'

'