studying the marble faces and reading the names, and above all admiring
the figures there--blind old Homer playing on his harp, with Dante,
Shakespeare, Milton, and all the immortal sons of song, grouped about him
listening. But nothing to her mind equalled the great group of statuary
representing Asia at one of the four corners, with that colossal calm-
faced woman seated on an elephant in the centre. What a great majestic
face, and yet how placid and sweet it looked, reminding her a little of
Mary in her kindly moods. But this noble face was of marble, and never
changed; Mary's changed every hour, so that the soft expression when it
came seemed doubly sweet. By-and-by she walked away towards the bridge
over the Serpentine, and in the narrow path, thickly bordered with trees
and shrubs and late flowers, she stepped aside to make room for a lady to
pass, who held by the hand a little angel-faced, golden-haired child,
dressed in a quaint pretty costume. The child stood still and looked up
into Fan's face, and then she also involuntarily stopped, so taken was
she with the little thing's beauty.

"Mammy," said the child, pointing to Fan, "I'se like to tiss the pretty
laly."

"Well, my darling, perhaps the young lady will kiss you if you ask very
nicely," said the mother.

"Oh, may I kiss her?" said Fan, reddening with pleasure, and quickly
stooping she pressed her lips to the little cherub face.

"I loves you--what's your name?" said the child.

"No, darling, you must not ask questions. You've got your kiss and that
ought to satisfy you"; and with a smile and nod to Fan she walked on.