‘Indeed!’ replied Sponge, ‘what is it?’

‘It’s a Bacchanal group, after Poussin, sculptured by Marin. I bought it at Lord Breakdown’s sale; it happened to be a wet day -- much such a day as this -- and things went for nothing. This you’ll know, I presume?’ observed Jawleyford, laying his hand on a life-size bust of Diana, in Italian marble.

‘No, I don’t,’ replied Sponge.

‘No!’ exclaimed Jawleyford; ‘I thought everybody had known this: this is my celebrated ‘‘Diana,’’ by Noindon -- one of the finest things in the world. Louis Philippe sent an agent over to this country expressly to buy it.’

‘Why didn’t you sell it him?’ asked Sponge.

‘Didn’t want the money,’ replied Jawleyford, ‘didn’t want the money. In addition to which, though a king, he was a bit of a screw, and we couldn’t agree upon terms. This,’ observed Jawleyford, ‘is a vase of the Cinque Cento period -- a very fine thing; and this,’ laying his hand on the crown of a much frizzed, barber’s-window-looking bust, ‘of course you know?’

‘No, I don’t,’ replied Sponge.

‘No!’ exclaimed Jawleyford, in astonishment.

‘No,’ repeated Sponge.

‘Look again, my dear fellow; you must know it,’ observed Jawleyford.

‘I suppose it’s meant for you,’ at last replied Sponge, seeing his host’s anxiety.

‘Meant! my dear fellow; why, don’t you think it like?’

‘Why, there’s a resemblance, certainly,’ said Sponge, ‘now that one knows. But I shouldn’t have guessed it was you.’

‘Oh, my dear Mr Sponge!’ exclaimed Jawleyford, in a tone of mortification, ‘Do you really mean to say you don’t think it like?’

‘Why, yes, it’s like,’ replied Sponge, seeing which way his host wanted it; ‘it’s like, certainly; the want of expression in the eye makes such a difference between a bust and a picture.’

‘True,’ replied Jawleyford, comforted -- ‘true,’ repeated he, looking affectionately at it; ‘I should say it was very like -- like as anything can be. You are rather too much above it there, you see; sit down here,’ continued he, leading Sponge to an ottoman surrounding a huge model of the column in the Place Vend0156me, that stood in the middle of the room -- ‘sit down here now, and look, and say if you don’t think it like?’

‘Oh, very like,’ replied Sponge, as soon as he had seated himself. ‘I see it now, directly; the mouth is yours to a T.’

‘And the chin? It’s my chin, isn’t it?’ asked Jawleyford.

‘Yes; and the nose, and the forehead, and the whiskers, and the hair, and the shape of the head, and everything. Oh! I see it now as plain as a pikestaff,’ observed Sponge.

‘I thought you would,’ rejoined Jawleyford, comforted --‘I thought you would; it’s generally considered an excellent likeness -- so it should, indeed, for it cost a vast of money -- fifty guineas! to say nothing of the lotus-leafed pedestal it’s on. That’s another of me,’ continued Jawleyford, pointing to a bust above the