and slept away the time,
rousing himself at intervals as a group of laughing girls passed him
with their attendant beaux, for Clifton Hot Springs was now becoming a
very fashionable resort, and the houses lying under the shadow of the
huge rocks were in great demand.

Now but little is left to tell of the glory of the past. The pump-room
has long since been pulled down, and instead of gaily dressed bevies of
fashionable folk disporting themselves under a row of trees in the May
sunshine, heavy trams, drawn by patient horses at an even jog-trot, pass
along at stated intervals, at all times and seasons, connecting the
traffic of the busy, populous city with Avonmouth which is just beyond
the graceful Suspension Bridge which spans the gorge between the
Gloucestershire and Somersetshire banks of the Avon.

But the grand old rocks do not change. The black-winged daws fly in and
out of their nests in the crevices, where the yellow wallflower and
large golden-eyed daisies still grow in profusion where no hand can
reach them, and flourishing with the scant nourishment that the crevices
in the rocks afford them, fill the air with their fragrance. Generations
of men come and go, and the face of Nature remains as it was when the
boy poet first gazed in a rapt vision at the grey bastions of St
Vincent's Rocks, and down at the river at his feet rushing out to the
sea.

Jack Henderson fortified himself with another meal at the
confectioner's, and then pursued his way back to Dowry Square.

The aspect of things was changed there since the early morning. The
brass handle of the door was polished and bright, the steps clean, and
Jack's pull at the bell and rap at the door was answered by Sam, in neat
livery, who conducted him immediately to a pleasant parlour where Mrs
Lambert was sitting; an old lady of a past time, her grey curls fastened
back from her forehead by two combs, surmounted by a large cap something
between a turban and a mob. Her black paduasoy gown, full at the waist
and only touching her ankles, was covered with a spotless white apron
with deep pockets.

Over the low bodice of her dress Mrs Lambert wore a thick white
kerchief, fastened close to the throat by a gold pin. On her arms she
wore thick mittens, which reached the elbow of her short sleeves, and on
her thin but shapely fingers she wore two or three handsome rings.

Jack made his best bow, and advanced to Mrs Lambert's chair, unhappily
treading as he did