not, the day after, and I know they would not have him."

"But, my dear, I really am not equal to Damascus. A few more days on
a camel--"

"But, aunt, you'll have a horse."

"That's worse, I'm sure. And, moreover, I've found an old friend, and
one that you will like very much."

"What, that exceedingly ugly young man that sat next to you?"

"Yes. That exceedingly ugly young man I remember as the prettiest
baby in the world--not that I think he is ugly. He is, however, no
other than the nephew of Mr. Bertram."

"What, papa's Mr. Bertram?"

"Yes; your father's Mr. Bertram. Therefore, if old Mr. Bertram should
die, and this young man should be his heir, he would have the charge
of all your money. You'd better be gracious to him."

"How odd! But what is he like?"

"He is one of the cleverest young men of the day. I had heard that he
had distinguished himself very much at Oxford; and he certainly is a
most agreeable companion." And so it was arranged between them that
they would not start to Damascus as yet, in spite of any evil that
Mr. M'Gabbery might inflict on them.

On the next morning at breakfast, Bertram managed to separate the
aunt from the niece by sitting between them. It was long, however,
before Mr. M'Gabbery gave up the battle. When he found that an
interloper was interfering with his peculiar property, he began to
tax his conversational powers to the utmost. He was greater than
ever about Ajalon, and propounded some very startling theories with
reference to Emmaus. He recalled over and over again the interesting
bits of their past journey; how tired they had been at Gaza, where
he had worked for the ladies like a slave--how terribly Miss Baker
had been frightened in the neighbourhood of Arimathea, where he,
Mr. M'Gabbery, had specially looked to his pistols with the view of
waging war on three or four supposed Bedouins who were seen to be
hovering on the hill-sides. But all would not do. Miss Waddington was
almost tired of Gaza and Arimathea, and Miss Baker seemed to have a
decided preference for London news. So at last Mr. M'Gabbery became
silent and grand, and betook himself to his associations and a map of
Palestine in a corner.

Bertram, when fortified with a night's rest and a good breakfast, was
able to recover his high-toned feeling, and, thus armed, proceeded
alone to make his first visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
It was a Sunday, the last Sunday in Lent; and he determined to