? Do you suppose I want to hold them? Then why not relieve me of the tablettes without being told? A thousand pardons, Mr. Hartright; servants are such asses, are they not? Do tell me⁠—what do you think of the drawings? They have come from a sale in a shocking state⁠—I thought they smelt of horrid dealers’ and brokers’ fingers when I looked at them last. Can you undertake them?”

Although my nerves were not delicate enough to detect the odour of plebeian fingers which had offended Mr. Fairlie’s nostrils, my taste was sufficiently educated to enable me to appreciate the value of the drawings, while I turned them over. They were, for the most part, really fine specimens of English watercolour art; and they had deserved much better treatment at the hands of their former possessor than they appeared to have received.