would walk in glorious sunlight if any man
was worthy, by his power of loving, to win
back her love. Even in her mourning she
would rest with a peaceful faith upon his
sympathy. His sympathy! Whose? That
other man's. And that it was another was
enough to make Mr. Thornton's pale grave
face grow doubly wan and stern at Dixon's
answer.

"I suppose I may call," said he coldly.
"On Mr. Hale, I mean. He will perhaps
admit me after to-morrow or so."

He spoke as if the answer were a matter of
indifference to him. But it was not so. For
all his pain, he longed to see the author of
it. Although he hated Margaret at times
when he thought of that gentle familiar
attitude and all the attendant circumstances,
he had a restless desire to renew her picture
in his mind—a longing for the very
atmosphere she breathed. He was in the Charybdis
of passion, and must perforce circle and
circle ever nearer round the fatal centre.

"I dare say, sir, master will see you. He
was very sorry to have to deny you the other
day; but circumstances was not agreeable
just then."

For some reason or other, Dixon never
named this interview that she had had with
Mr. Thornton to Margaret. It might have
been mere chance, but so it was that
Margaret never heard that he had attended her
poor mother's funeral.

OLD FRIENDS WITH NEW FACES.

A RECENT homeward voyage of the Ripon
from Alexandria was one highly gratifying
to naturalists, for amongst the distinguished
passengers, biped, quadruped, and quadrumanous,
a female hippopotamus shone
conspicuous. This beautiful Egyptian had, it
seems, been waiting for warm weather before
she decided—or her friends for her—on coming
over to this country to charm the solitude
of the somewhat irascible individual of her
own species in the Zoological Gardens of the
Regent's Park, who, I am happy to say,
notwithstanding a slight infirmity of temper,
continues to draw, and is, indeed, one of the
most popular members of the zoological
company. So many interesting particulars have
been recorded of this illustrious personage
—such, for instance, as her fondness
for milk, meal, and music, and her proneness
to make a biffin of her Arab
keeper—that, although I am no naturalist, I
am greatly interested in her; paying her
frequent visits. My first visit was on the
third day after her arrival—the hottest,
perhaps, of the season. On reaching the
well-known enclosure, where her companion
has so long disported himself, I beheld,
weltering in the pool, the huge animal,
which, just as I approached, displayed
so much of its head as revealed its small
ears and wine-stained eyes. "Ah!" said
I, proud of the information I had received
at the entrance, "much smaller than the
male; and"—as the creature's spine rose
above the water—"a good deal thinner
too, the consequence of travelling." At
this moment the English keeper went
past. "Where," I asked, in a highly-satisfied,
half-dictatorial tone—"where have you
put the male hippopotamus?"

"There he is, sir," replied the man,
"a-swimming about in his tank!"

I had attracted the attention of a good
many spectators by the loudness of my voice,
and am free to confess that I must have
looked a little foolish when this plain answer
was returned; but as no one heard my
previous remarks save a very amiable
companion (who had differed from me in opinion),
I did not feel quite so crest-fallen as I might
have done. In order, however, to be no
longer a mark for public observation, as the
man who didn't know the hippopotamus
when he saw him, I descended from the
latform, and with as much unconcern as I
could assume, placed myself close to the barrier,
and looking through my eye-glass—a
process necessary even in the case of a brute
so monstrous—observed, "Yes, this is the
old fellow, no doubt; I hadn't a good view
of him before. But where is the female?"
I was requested to cast my eyes in an oblique
direction across the enclosure, where the
workmen have latterly been very busy
making additions to the hippopotamian serai,
and there, behind a grille, a dark object was
visible, which I was informed was the lady
in question. She was standing in the midst
of some litter upon four very short, thick
legs, munching a cabbage; her form, as well
as I could make it out, was not remarkable
for grace; and her complexion—like that of
her celebrated countrywoman, Cleopatra—
was "with Phoebus' amorous pinches black:"
she was too young, however, for wrinkles
such as those of Egypt's queen, but rejoiced
in reeves of fat. In answer to further
enquiries, I learnt that the apartment occupied
by the lovely stranger had not involved any
sacrifice of personal comfort on the part of the
male hippopotamus, though, of course, he
would have been only too happy to have made
them—but was regularly prepared before her
arrival. As far as I could judge, it consisted
of a drawing-room, dining-room, boudoir and
bed-room in one; it also contained a bath.
The parties, I was told, had been introduced,
but only in a formal manner, the young lady,
who is still in her noviciate, remaining behind
the grate, as is the custom in convents, while
the gentleman made his bow, as well as he
was able, outside. His behaviour on the
occasion is described as having been exceedingly
urbane; that is to say, he did not get
into a passion and endeavour to demolish the
barrier that separated him from the future
Mrs. Hip., but conducted himself calmly as a
royal proxy. As far as my own observation