flowers in bloom, gentlemen, and four--no,
five more to open. A strong plant in perfect health, six pseudo-bulbs
with leaves, and three without. Two black leads which I am advised
can be separated off at the proper time. Now, what bids for the
'Odontoglossum Pavo.' Ah! I wonder who will have the honour of becoming
the owner of this perfect, this unmatched production of Nature. Thank
you, sir--three hundred. Four. Five. Six. Seven in three places. Eight.
Nine. Ten. Oh! gentlemen, let us get on a little faster. Thank you,
sir--fifteen. Sixteen. It is against you, Mr Woodden. Ah! thank you,
seventeen."

There came a pause in the fierce race for "O. Pavo," which I occupied in
reducing seventeen hundred shillings to pounds sterling.

My word! I thought to myself, L85 is a goodish price to pay for one
plant, however rare. Woodden is acting up to his instructions with a
vengeance.

The pleading voice of Mr. Primrose broke in upon my meditations.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" he said, "surely you are not going to allow the
most wondrous production of the floral world, on which I repeat there
is no reserve, to be knocked down at this miserable figure. Come, come.
Well, if I must, I must, though after such a disgrace I shall get no
sleep to-night. One," and his hammer fell for the first time. "Think,
gentlemen, upon my position, think what the eminent owners, who with
their usual delicacy have stayed away, will say to me when I am obliged
to tell them the disgraceful truth. Two," and his hammer fell a second
time. "Smith, hold up that flower. Let the company see it. Let them know
what they are losing."

Smith held up the flower at which everybody glared. The little ivory
hammer circled round Mr. Primrose's head. It was about to fall, when a
quiet man with a long beard who hitherto had not joined in the bidding,
lifted his head and said softly:

"Eighteen hundred."

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Primrose, "I thought so. I thought that the owner of
the greatest collection in England would not see this treasure slip from
his grasp without a struggle. Against you, Mr. Woodden."

"Nineteen, sir," said Woodden in a stony voice.

"Two thousand," echoed the gentleman with the long beard.

"Twenty-one hundred," said Woodden.

"That's right, Mr. Woodden," cried Mr. Primrose, "you are indeed
representing your principal worthily. I feel sure that you do not mean
to stop for a few miserable pounds."

"Not if I knows it," ejaculated Woodden. "