College students -- Fiction; Love stories; Siblings -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"Now, ladies, we come to one of the principal events of the evening, the
bidding for this very rich and magnificent brass, hand-beaten, richly-
chased, Oriental, ornamental flower-pot. We have several flower-pots in
our catalogue, but none to be compared for one moment to the very
superior article which you now see before you. It is safe to say that
no student, even in her third year, can boast of a flower-pot to equal
this lot in either quality or design. The possession of it will in
itself ensure fame for its fortunate owner. Let me have a handsome bid,
if you please, ladies, to start this valuable article. Half a crown!!!
A lady, whose ignorance we can only deplore, offers me half a crown for
a genuine antique brass! I am thankful that in such a large and
enlightened audience such an error is not likely to be repeated. Three
shillings. _Thank_ you, madam. And six. Four shillings--four
shillings. Freshers who neglect to take advantage of this opportunity
will be compelled to content themselves with one of these common china
articles to my left. A flowerpot is a necessary article of furniture
without which no room is complete. What is home without an aspidistra?
You laugh, ladies, but you can find no answer to that question. And
six! Five shillings! The raw material for this masterpiece must have
cost many times this sum. Five--five--no advance on five. The lady in
green, Joshua. Take the lady's address!"
The auctioneer put up her hand to her head and patted the rose-coloured
ribbon into place. Inspired by the laughing appreciation of her
sallies, her cheeks had flushed to the same bright shade, and with her
sparkling eyes and alert, graceful movements she made a delightful and
attractive figure, at which the Freshers stared in undisguised delight.
"I adore her!" whispered Darsie in her friend's ear.
"Decent sort!" croaked Hannah the undemonstrative, and then by a common
impulse their glance passed on to rest on Helen Ross's set, supercilious
face.
"I loathe her," came the second whisper.
"Mean thing--jealousy!" croaked Hannah once more, and turned her
attention to the business in hand.
After the china flower-pots had been disposed of, a trio of basket-
chairs gave an impetus to the bidding, as the truth of the auctioneer's
words went home to every heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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