“Aye,—­I will that, Miss Anthea!”

“Mr. Bellew, we can find room for you if you care to come with us?”

“Thanks,” said he, shaking his head, “but I rather think I’ll stay here, and—­er—­help Adam to—­to—­look after things, if you don’t mind.”

“Then,—­’Good-bye!’” said Anthea, and, nodding to Adam, he gave the mare her head, and off they went.

“Good-bye!” cried Small Porges, “an’ thank you for the shilling Uncle Porges.”

“The mare is—­er—­rather fresh this morning, isn’t she, Adam?” enquired Bellew, watching the dog-cart’s rapid course.

“Fresh sir?”

“And that’s rather a—­er—­dangerous sort of thing for a woman to drive, isn’t it?”

“Meanin’ the dog-cart, sir?”

“Meaning the dog-cart, Adam.”

“Why, Lord love ye, Mr. Belloo sir!” cried Adam with his great laugh, “there ain’t nobody can ’andle the ribbons better than Miss Anthea,—­there ain’t a horse as she can’t drive,—­ah! or ride, for that matter,—­not no-wheres, sir.”

“Hum!” said Bellew, and, having watched the dog-cart out of sight, he turned and followed Adam into the stables.

And here, sitting upon a bale of hay, they smoked many pipes together in earnest converse, until such time as the sale should begin.

As the day advanced, people began arriving in twos and threes, and, among the first, the Auctioneer himself.  A jovial-faced man, was this Auctioneer, with jovial manner, and a jovial smile.  Indeed, his joviality seemed, somehow or other, to have got into the very buttons of his coat, for they fairly winked, and twinkled with joviality.  Upon catching sight of the furniture he became, if possible, more jovial than ever, and beckoning to his assistant,—­that is to say to the small man with the red nose and the blue chin, who, it seemed answered to the name of Theodore,—­he clapped him jovially upon the back,—­(rather as though he were knocking him down to some unfortunate bidder),—­and immediately fell into business converse with him,—­albeit jovial still.

But all the while intending purchasers were arriving; they came on horse, and afoot, and in conveyances of every sort and kind, and the tread of their feet, and the buzz of their voices awoke unwonted echoes in the old place.  And still they came, from far and near, until some hundred odd people were crowded into the hall.

Conspicuous among them was a large man with a fat, red neck which he was continually mopping at, and rubbing with a vivid bandanna handkerchief scarcely less red.  Indeed, red seemed to be his pervading colour, for his hair was red, his hands were red, and his face, heavy and round, was reddest of all, out of whose flaming circumference two diminutive but very sharp eyes winked and blinked continually.  His voice, like himself, was large with a peculiar brassy ring to it that penetrated to the farthest corners and recesses of the old hall.  He was, beyond all doubt, a man of substance, and of no small importance, for he was greeted deferentially on all hands, and it was to be noticed that people elbowed each other to make way for him, as people ever will before substance, and property.  To some of them he nodded, to some he spoke, and with others he even laughed, albeit he was of a solemn, sober, and serious nature, as becomes a man of property, and substance.