ithin ear-shot of Lady Dalrymple, and then began to work his way
toward a conversation.

"This, ma'am," he began, "is truly an interesting spot."

Lady Dalrymple bowed.

"Yes, ma'am. I've been for the past few days surveying the ruins of
antiquity. It is truly a soul-stirring spectacle."

"So I have heard," remarked Lady Dalrymple, cheerfully.

"Every thing around us, ma'am," continued the Reverend Saul, in a
dismal voice, "is subject to dissolution, or is actually dissolving.
How forcible air the words of the Psalmist: 'Our days air as the
grass, or like the morning flower; when blasting winds sweep o'er the
vale, they wither in an hour.' Yes, ma'am, I have this week stood in
the Roman Forum. The Coliseum, also, ma'am, is a wonderful place. It
was built by the Flavian emperors, and when completed could hold
eighty thousand spectators seated, with about twenty thousand
standing. In hot weather these spectators were protected from the rays
of the sun by means of awnings. It is a mighty fabric, ma'am!"

"I should think so," said Lady Dalrymple.

"The arch of Titus, ma'am, is a fine ruin. It was originally built by
the emperor of that name to commemorate the conquest of Jerusalem. The
arch of Septimius Severus was built by the Emperor of that name, and
the arch of Constantine was built by the emperor of _that_ name. They
are all very remarkable structures."

"I'm charmed to hear you say so."

"It's true, ma'am; but let me add, ma'am, that the ruins of this
ancient city do not offer to my eyes a spectacle half so melancholy as
the great moral ruin which is presented by the modern city. For,
ma'am, when I look around, what do I see? I behold the Babylon of the
Apocalypse! Pray, ma'am, have you ever reflected much on that?"

"Not to any great extent," said Lady Dalrymple, who now began to feel
bored, and so arose to her feet. The Reverend Saul Tozer was just
getting on a full head of conversational steam, and was just fairly
under way, when this sad and chilling occurrence took place. She rose
and bowed to the gentlemen, and began to retreat.

All this time the Baron had been pouring forth to Mrs. Willoughby his
excited interrogatories about Minnie's health, and had asked her to
take a message. This Mrs. Willoughby refused at first.

"Oh no!" said she; "it will really disturb her too much. What she
wants most is perfect quiet. Her health is really _very_ delicate, and
I am _excessively_ anxious about her."

"B