spoken of, and was soon hastening in the direction of the Rings-Hill
column.

There was a bright sun overhead on that afternoon of early spring,
and its rays shed an unusual warmth on south-west aspects, though
shady places still retained the look and feel of winter. Rooks were
already beginning to build new nests or to mend up old ones, and
clamorously called in neighbours to give opinions on difficulties in
their architecture. Lady Constantine swerved once from her path, as
if she had decided to go to the homestead where Swithin lived; but
on second thoughts she bent her steps to the column.

Drawing near it she looked up; but by reason of the height of the
parapet nobody could be seen thereon who did not stand on tiptoe.
She thought, however, that her young friend might possibly see her,
if he were there, and come down; and that he was there she soon
ascertained by finding the door unlocked, and the key inside. No
movement, however, reached her ears from above, and she began to
ascend.

Meanwhile affairs at the top of the column had progressed as
follows. The afternoon being exceptionally fine, Swithin had
ascended about two o'clock, and, seating himself at the little table
which he had constructed on the spot, he began reading over his
notes 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