e whisking along at the
rate of sixty miles an hour. Aunt was tired and went to sleep, but
Uncle read his guidebook, and wouldn't be astonished at anything. This
is the way we went on. Amy, flying up--"Oh, that must be Kenilworth,
that gray place among the trees!" Flo, darting to my window--"How
sweet! We must go there sometime, won't we Papa?" Uncle, calmly
admiring his boots--"No, my dear, not unless you want beer, that's a
brewery."

A pause--then Flo cried out, "Bless me, there's a gallows and a man
going up." "Where, where?" shrieks Amy, staring out at two tall posts
with a crossbeam and some dangling chains. "A colliery," remarks
Uncle, with a twinkle of the eye. "Here's a lovely flock of lambs all
lying down," says Amy. "See, Papa, aren't they pretty?" added Flo
sentimentally. "Geese, young ladies," returns Uncle, in a tone that
keeps us quiet till Flo settles down to enjoy the _Flirtations of
Captain Cavendish_, and I have the scenery all to myself.

Of course it rained when we got to London, and there was nothing to be
seen but fog and umbrellas. We rested, unpacked, and shopped a little
between the showers. Aunt Mary got me some new things, for I came off
in such a hurry I wasn't half ready. A white hat and blue feather, a
muslin dress to match, and the loveliest mantle you ever saw. Shopping
in Regent Street is perfectly splendid. Things seem so cheap, nice
ribbons only sixpence a yard. I laid in a stock, but shall get my
gloves in Paris. Doesn't that sound sort of elegant and rich?

Flo and I, for the fun of it, ordered a hansom cab, while Aunt and
Uncle were out, and went for a drive, though we learned afterward that
it wasn't the thing for young ladies to ride in them alone. It was so
droll! For when we were shut in by the wooden apron, the man drove so
fast that Flo was frightened, and told me to stop him, but he was up
outside behind somewhere, and I couldn't get at him. He didn't hear me
call, nor see me flap my parasol in front, and there we were, quite
helpless, rattling away, and whirling around corners at a breakneck
pace. At last, in my despair, I saw a little door in the roof, and on
poking it open, a red eye appeared, and a beery voice said...

"Now, then, mum?"

I gave my order as soberly as I could, and slamming down the door, with
an "Aye, aye, mum," the man made his horse walk, as if going to a
funeral. I poked again and said, "A little faster," then off he went,
helt