pared the photograph with an
engraving of the professor in much earlier life--which is to be found in
the Life published since he passed away--with an artist friend (who had
not known him). We went over the features one by one, and my friend said
she noticed only one small difference, the exact length of the upper
lip, and this, she considered, would be amply accounted for by the lapse
of time between the two pictures and the slight lengthening of the upper
lip owing to loss of teeth. The professor passed away as an old man; the
picture engraved in the Life represents him as he was at least twenty
years before his death.

But the most interesting point to me in this photograph, is the
appearance on his lap of a much loved dog, a rather large fox terrier
named "Bob." I had not noticed Bob until a daughter of the professor
pointed him out to me, and now I cannot understand having missed him at
first.

Bob was not only the most important person in the Oxford household, but
he was good enough to be very fond of me, so it seems to me quite
natural that he should have come with his master to pay me a visit.

I remember arriving at the house one dark winter's evening after an
absence of over two years, and Bob's welcome to me was so ecstatic that
he nearly knocked me down in a vain attempt to get his paws round my
neck.

I heard the professor, who was always rather jealous of Bob's
affections, say in a whisper to his wife: "Most touching thing I ever
saw, that dog's welcome when Miss Bates arrived!"

Dear Bob! I am so glad he can still come and see me, with his dearly
loved master.

Another shuffle of the photographs brings to the top a sweet girlish
face and figure, "sixteen summers or something less."

She appeared first upon a plate in the summer of 1905, but so
indistinctly as to the _face_ that I could not recognise it.

A few months ago the same figure appeared again, but quite clearly this
time, and involuntarily, as I looked at it, I exclaimed: "_Why, of
course, it is Lily Blake!_"

Now it is nearly thirty years since I met this charming child; during my
first visit to Egypt. She and her father (a well-known physician) and
her aunt, were spending a six weeks' holiday in Cairo, and I saw more of
her than would otherwise have been the case, because she was the
playmate of another young girl--the child of friends of mine at
Shepheard's Hotel.

Lily was a sweet-looking, delicate girl, with soft, sleepy blue ey