the West End_ upon it, so that they might now be fairly said to be
at least in a suburb. Ten minutes more brought them to Highgate
Archway, and there, with its dome just emerging above the fog, was St.
Paul's! They could hardly restrain themselves, and Miriam squeezed
Andrew's hand in ecstasy. They rattled on through Islington, and made
their first halt at the "Angel," astonished and speechless at the
crowds of people, at the shops, and most of all at the infinity of
streets branching off in all directions. Dingy Clerkenwell and
Aldersgate Street were gilded with a plentiful and radiant deposit of
that precious metal of which healthy youth has such an infinite
store--actual metal, not the "delusive ray" by any means, for it is the
most real thing in existence, more real than the bullion forks and
spoons which we buy later on, when we feel we can afford them, and far
more real than the silver tea-service with which, still later, we are
presented amidst cheers by our admiring friends in the ward which we
represent in the Common Council, for our increasing efforts to uphold
their interests.

At the Bull and Mouth they saw that marvel, the General Post Office,
but they had not much time to look at it, for here they were met by a
young man from Mr. Dabb. They were disappointed that Mrs. Dabb had not
come, but a verbal excuse was offered that she was in bed with a
headache. Mr. Dabb, of course, was too busy to leave. The messenger
was commissioned to take them to their uncle's, where they were to have
tea; and after tea they were to go to the lodgings which Mrs. Dabb had
provisionally selected for them. In a few minutes they had crossed
London Bridge, and drew up in front of Mr. Dabb's house. There was no
private entrance, and they encountered their uncle on the pavement. He
was short and thick, with a very florid complexion, and wore a brown
jersey, and a white apron fastened at the back with a curious brass
contrivance. There were two or three people with him, and he had a
knife in his hand. The doors were wide open; there seemed to be no
windows, and in fact Mr. Dabb's establishment was a portion of the
street just a little recessed. He was in and out continually, now on
the pathway talking to a customer there, and then passing inside to the
ladies who were a little more genteel, and preferred to state their
wants under cover. At the back of the shop was a desk perched up
aloft, just big enough for one person