yet felt unable to treat her altogether as a child or an imbecile.
To-day, because of his preoccupied thoughts, and the effort it cost
him to be jocose, he talked for the most part in a vein of irony
which impressed, but did not much enlighten, his hearer.

"This," said he, when they had reached the centre of things, "is the
Acropolis of Birmingham. Here are our great buildings, of which we
boast to the world. They signify the triumph of Democracy--and of
money. In front of you stands the Town Hall. Here, to the left, is
the Midland Institute, where a great deal of lecturing goes on, and
the big free library, where you can either read or go to sleep. I
have done both in my time. Behind yonder you catch a glimpse of the
fountain that plays to the glory of Joseph Chamberlain--did you
ever hear of him? And further back still is Mason College, where
young men are taught a variety of things, including discontent with
a small income. To the right there, that's the Council Hall--
splendid, isn't it! We bring our little boys to look at it, and tell
them if they make money enough they may some day go in and out as if
it were their own house. Behind it you see the Art Gallery. We don't
really care for pictures; a great big machine is our genuine
delight; but it wouldn't be nice to tell everybody that."

"What a lot I have learnt from you!" exclaimed the girl ingenuously,
when at length they turned their steps towards the railway station.
"I shall always remember Birmingham. You like it much better than
London, don't you?"

"I glory in the place!"

Hilliard was tired out. He repented of his proposal to make the