incidental suggestion of Ethelberta's. One afternoon in the week
previous they had been chatting over tea at the house of the former lady,
Neigh being present as a casual caller, when the conversation was
directed upon Milton by somebody opening a volume of the poet's works
that lay on a table near.

'Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
England hath need of thee--'

said Mrs. Belmaine with the degree of flippancy which is considered
correct for immortal verse, the Bible, God, etc., in these days. And
Ethelberta replied, lit up by a quick remembrance, 'It is a good time to
talk of Milton; for I have been much impressed by reading the "Life;" and
I have decided to go and see his tomb. Could we not all go? We ought to
quicken our memories of the great, and of where they lie, by such a visit
occasionally.'

'We ought,' said Mrs. Belmaine.

'And why shouldn't we?' continued Ethelberta, with interest.

'To Westminster Abbey?' said Mr. Belmaine, a common man of thirty,
younger than his wife, who had lately come into the room.

'No; to where he lies comparatively alone--Cripplegate Church.'

'I always thought that Milton was buried in Poet's Corner,' said Mr.
Belmaine.

'So did I,' said Neigh; 'but I have such an indifferent head for places
that my thinking goes for nothing.'

'Well, it would be a pretty thing to do,' said Mrs. Belmaine, 'and
instructive to all of us. If Mrs. Petherwin would like to go, I should.
We can take you in the carriage and call round for Mrs. Doncastle on our
way, and set you both down again coming back.'

'That would be excellent,' said Ethelberta. 'There is nowhere I like
going to so much as the depths of the city. The absurd narrowness of
world-renowned streets is so surprising--so crooked and shady as they are
too, and full of the quaint smells of old cupboards and cellars. Walking
through one of them reminds me of being at the bottom of some crevasse or
gorge, the proper surface of the globe being the tops of the houses.'

'You will come to take care of us, John? And you, Mr. Neigh, would like
to come? We will tell Mr. Ladywell that he may join us if he cares to,'
said Mrs. Belmaine.

'O yes,' said her husband quietly; and Neigh said he should like nothing
better, after a faint aspect of apprehension at the remoteness of the
idea from the daily track of his thoughts. Mr. Belmaine observing this,
and mistaking it for an indication that Neigh had been dragg