To my great relief, she was interrupted by the auctioneer, and the sound of his hammer. The auction went on, and nothing but “Who bids more? going!--going!--who bids more?” was heard for a considerable time. Not being able to get near Mr. Montenero, and having failed in all my objects, I grew excessively tired, and was going away, leaving my mother to the care of Mowbray, but he stopped me. “Stay, stay,” said he, drawing me aside, behind two connoisseurs, who were babbling about a Titian, “you will have some diversion by and by. I have a picture to sell, and you must see how it will go off. There is a painting that I bought at a stall for nothing, upon a speculation that my mother, who is a judge, will pay dear for; and what do you think the picture is? Don’t look so stupid--it will interest you amazingly, and Mr. Montenero too, and ‘tis a pity your Jewess is not here to see it. Did you ever hear of a picture called the ‘Dentition of the Jew?’” “Not I.” “You’ll see, presently,” said Mowbray. “But tell me _now_,” said I. “Only the drawing the teeth of the Jew, by order of some one of our most merciful lords the kings--John, Richard, or Edward.” “It will be a companion to the old family picture of the Jew and Sir Josseline,” continued Mowbray; “and this will make the vile daub, which I’ve had the luck to pick up, invaluable to my mother, and I trust very valuable to me.” “There! Christie has it up! The dear rascal! hear him puff it!” Lady de Brantefield put up her glass, but neither she nor I could distinguish a single figure in the picture, the light so glared upon it. Christie caught her ladyship’s eye, and addressed himself directly to her. But her ladyship was deaf. Mowbray pressed forward to her ear, and repeated all Christie roared. No sooner did she understand the subject of the picture than she turned to her son, to desire him to bid for her; but Mowbray substituted Topham in his stead: Topham obeyed. “Who bids more?” A bidder started up, who seemed very eager. He was, we were told, an engraver. “Who bids more?” To our surprise, Mr. Montenero was the person to bid more--and more, and more, and more. The engraver soon gave up the contest, but her ladyship’s pride and passions rose when she found Mr. Montenero continued to bid against her; and she persisted, till she came up to an extravagant sum; and still she desired Colonel Topham to bid on. “Beyond my expectation, faith! Both mad!” whispered Mowbray. I thought so too. Still Mr. Montenero went higher. “I’ll go no higher,” said Lady de Brantefield; “you may let it be knocked down to that person, Colonel.” Then turning to her son, “Who is the man that bids against me?” “A Jewish gentleman, ma’am, I believe.” “A Jew, perhaps--gentleman, I deny; no Jew ever was or ever will be a gentleman. I am sure our family, since the time of Sir Josseline, have had reason enough to know that.” “Very true, ma’am--I’ll call for your carriage, for I suppose you have had enough of this.”