and examining
some astronomical journals that had reached him in the morning. The sun
blazed into the hollow roof-space as into a tub, and the sides kept out
every breeze. Though the month was February below it was May in the
abacus of the column. This state of the atmosphere, and the fact that on
the previous night he had pursued his observations till past two o'clock,
produced in him at the end of half an hour an overpowering inclination to
sleep. Spreading on the lead-work a thick rug which he kept up there, he
flung himself down against the parapet, and was soon in a state of
unconsciousness.

It was about ten minutes afterwards that a soft rustle of silken clothes
came up the spiral staircase, and, hesitating onwards, reached the
orifice, where appeared the form of Lady Constantine. She did not at
first perceive that he was present, and stood still to reconnoitre. Her
eye glanced over his telescope, now wrapped up, his table and papers, his
observing-chair, and his contrivances for making the best of a deficiency
of instruments. All was warm, sunny, and silent, except that a solitary
bee, which had somehow got within the hollow of the abacus, was singing
round inquiringly, unable to discern that ascent was the only mode of
escape. In another moment she beheld the astronomer, lying in the sun
like a sailor in the main-top.

Lady Constantine coughed slightly; he did not awake. She then entered,
and, drawing the parcel from beneath her cloak, placed it on the table.
After this she waited, looking for a long time at his sleeping face,
which had a very interesting appearance. She seemed reluctant to leave,
yet wanted resolution to wake him; and, pencilling his name on the
parcel, she withdrew to the staircase, where the brushing of her dress
decreased to silence as she receded round and round on her way to the
base.

Swithin still slept on, and presently the rustle began again in the far-
down interior of the column. The door could be heard closing, and the
rustle came nearer, showing that she had shut herself in,--no doubt to
lessen the risk of an accidental surprise by any roaming villager. When
Lady Constantine reappeared at the top, and saw the parcel still
untouched and Swithin asleep as before, she exhibited some
disappointment; but she did not retreat.

Looking again at him, her eyes became so sentimentally fixed on his face
that it seemed as if she could not withdraw them. There lay, in the
sh