“Yes, Mr. Ladislaw, yes; this interests you as a connoiss_ure_, I think.  It is some pleasure,” the auctioneer went on with a rising fervor, “to have a picture like this to show to a company of ladies and gentlemen—­a picture worth any sum to an individual whose means were on a level with his judgment.  It is a painting of the Italian school—­by the celebrated Guydo, the greatest painter in the world, the chief of the Old Masters, as they are called—­ I take it, because they were up to a thing or two beyond most of us—­ in possession of secrets now lost to the bulk of mankind.  Let me tell you, gentlemen, I have seen a great many pictures by the Old Masters, and they are not all up to this mark—­some of them are darker than you might like and not family subjects.  But here is a Guydo—­the frame alone is worth pounds—­which any lady might be proud to hang up—­a suitable thing for what we call a refectory in a charitable institution, if any gentleman of the Corporation wished to show his munifi_cence_.  Turn it a little, sir? yes.  Joseph, turn it a little towards Mr. Ladislaw—­Mr. Ladislaw, having been abroad, understands the merit of these things, you observe.”

All eyes were for a moment turned towards Will, who said, coolly, “Five pounds.”  The auctioneer burst out in deep remonstrance.

“Ah!  Mr. Ladislaw! the frame alone is worth that.  Ladies and gentlemen, for the credit of the town!  Suppose it should be discovered hereafter that a gem of art has been amongst us in this town, and nobody in Middlemarch awake to it.  Five guineas—­five seven-six—­ five ten.  Still, ladies, still!  It is a gem, and `Full many a gem,’ as the poet says, has been allowed to go at a nominal price because the public knew no better, because it was offered in circles where there was—­I was going to say a low feeling, but no!—­Six pounds—­ six guineas—­a Guydo of the first order going at six guineas—­ it is an insult to religion, ladies; it touches us all as Christians, gentlemen, that a subject like this should go at such a low figure—­ six pounds ten—­seven—­”

The bidding was brisk, and Will continued to share in it, remembering that Mrs. Bulstrode had a strong wish for the picture, and thinking that he might stretch the price to twelve pounds.  But it was knocked down to him at ten guineas, whereupon he pushed his way towards the bow-window and went out.  He chose to go under the marquee to get a glass of water, being hot and thirsty:  it was empty of other visitors, and he asked the woman in attendance to fetch him some fresh water; but before she was well gone he was annoyed to see entering the florid stranger who had stared at him.  It struck Will at this moment that the man might be one of those political parasitic insects of the bloated kind who had once or twice claimed acquaintance with him as having heard him speak on the Reform question, and who might think of getting a shilling by news.  In this light his person,