Kitty and Lesbia accepted with alacrity. Neither had witnessed a sale before, so it would be a novel experience to both. Their unknown friend piloted them to the front door, where they were duly passed by the policeman in charge, then, meeting some friends, she nodded good-bye and went away. There was still a quarter of an hour before the auctioneer was due to begin, and people were walking about the house viewing the various articles which would presently be put up. In great curiosity the girls joined the throng, and wandered round the rooms. It was the third day of the sale, so most of the important pieces of furniture had already been removed. What was left was that vast accumulation of household rubbish which—like the traditional lost pocket-book—is often of little value to anybody except its owner. The dismantled house had a forlorn look, the sun glared through curtainless windows on to bedsteads piled up with bedding, stacks of well-used books, antiquated hats in round band-boxes, tasteless ornaments, faded cushions, tarnished gilt frames, and a medley of miscellaneous objects. There was something infinitely sad about it all. The old nursery, where surely children had not played for forty years, held old-fashioned pictures of Red Riding Hood, Cherry Ripe, and other Victorian supplements; there was a high chair and a swinging cot, and even a dolls' house, with dusty furniture and broken dolls. Various articles were spread forth upon a large deal table. Lesbia, a little oppressed with the mental atmosphere of the place, looked over them lightly, then gave a sudden gasp and clutched Kitty's arm. In the very middle there was an oil paint-box, palette, and bundle of brushes.
"Look! The very things I want!" whispered Lesbia excitedly. "Oh, do you think they'll go cheap? Could I possibly bid for them? What do you think they'll fetch?"
"I've no idea," replied Kitty. "Sometimes you get these things for an old song, I believe, and sometimes people run them up. What money have you brought with you?"
"I've only four shillings in the world, but it's here in my purse, thank goodness!"
"I have five shillings with me, but we shall want to get some tea. I might lend you half a crown, but not more."
"Oh, do let us see what we can do!"
Lesbia was as thrilled as if she were trying a gamble upon the Stock Exchange. She asked the auctioneer's man when the contents of the nursery would be put up, and he told her it was second on the list for that day's sale.
"Better go and get a place outside if you want to bid," he advised.
So Lesbia dragged Kitty, who wanted to look at a hundred things by the way, downstairs and on to the lawn, where a long table and the auctioneer's desk were arranged. The girls waited eagerly for the fun to begin. They were much entertained at the company in which they found themselves, farmers and villagers from the neighbourhood, dealers from local towns, and an odd assortment of queer-looking people such as are never seen except at sales, some obviously out for amusement, and others bent on bargain-hunting. There were one or two keen faces of professional buyers which strangely repelled them, but on the whole the crowd was jovial and good-humoured.
At two o'clock the auctioneer took his place, and his men began to carry out the first "lots" and place them upon the table. He rapidly described their merits and knocked down bundles of curtains or blankets to the highest bidders. Bedroom 4, which was being sold, contained a variety of articles. When the linen was disposed of, a number of books were next plumped upon the table.