ng. But the third lady, Hawbury--Well,
it's enough to say that I, who have seen all women in all lands, have
never seen any thing like her. She was on the front seat, with her
face turned toward me. She was small, a perfect blonde; hair short and
curling; a round, girlish face; dimpled cheeks, and little mouth. Her
eyes were large and blue; and, as she looked at me, I saw such a
bewitching innocence, such plaintive entreaty, such pathetic trust,
such helpless, childlike--I'll be hanged if I can find words to
express what I want to say. The English language doesn't contain
them."

"Do it in Latin, then, or else skip the whole description. All the
same. I know the whole story by heart. Love's young dream, and all
that sort of thing, you know."

"Well," continued Dacres, "there was something so confoundedly
bewitching in the little girl's face that I found myself keeping on at
a slow pace in the rear of the carriage, and feasting on her looks. Of
course I wasn't rude about it or demonstrative."

"Oh, of course. No demonstration. It's nothing to ride behind a
carriage for several hours, and 'feast' one's self on a pretty girl's
looks! But go on, old man."

"Oh, I managed it without giving offense. You see, there was such a
beastly lot of pigs, peasants, cows, dirty children, lazaroni, and all
that sort of thing, that it was simply impossible to go any faster; so
you see I was compelled to ride behind. Sometimes, indeed, I fell a
good distance back."

"And then caught up again to resume the 'feast?'"

"Well--yes."

"But I don't see what this has to do with your going to Vesuvius."

"It has every thing to do. You see, I started without any fixed
purpose, and after I saw this carriage, I kept on insensibly after
it."

"Oh, I see--yes. By Jove!"

"And they drove up as far as they could."

"Yes?"

"And I followed. You see, I had nothing else to do--and that little
girl! Besides, it was the most natural thing in the world for me to be
going up; and the fact that I was bent on the same errand as
themselves was sufficient to account for my being near the carriage,
and would prevent them from supposing that I was following them. So,
you see, I followed, and at length they stopped at the Hermitage. I
left my horse there, and strolled forward, without going very far
away; my only idea was to keep the girl in sight. I had no idea that
they would go any further. To ascend the cone seemed quite out of the
question. I th