'What?' 'A cyclone in the sun.' The lady paused, as if to consider the weight of that event in the scale

of terrene life.

'Will it make any difference to us here?' she asked.

The young man by this time seemed to be awakened to the consciousness

that somebody unusual was talking to him; he turned, and started.

'I beg your pardon,' he said. 'I thought it was my relative come to look

after me! She often comes about this time.' He continued to look at her and forget the sun, just such a reciprocity of influence as might have been expected between a dark lady and a flaxen-

haired youth making itself apparent in the faces of each.

'Don't let me interrupt your observations,' said she.

'Ah, no,' said he, again applying his eye; whereupon his face lost the

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animation which her presence had lent it, and became immutable as that of

a bust, though superadding to the serenity of repose the sensitiveness of

life. The expression that settled on him was one of awe. Not unaptly

might it have been said that he was worshipping the sun. Among the

various intensities of that worship which have prevailed since the first

intelligent being saw the luminary decline westward, as the young man now

beheld it doing, his was not the weakest. He was engaged in what may be

called a very chastened or schooled form of that first and most natural

of adorations.

'But would you like to see it?' he recommenced. 'It is an event that is

witnessed only about once in two or three years, though it may occur

often enough.' She assented, and looked through the shaded eyepiece, and saw a whirling

mass, in the centre of which the blazing globe seemed to be laid bare to

its core. It was a peep into a maelstrom of fire, taking place where

nobody had ever been or ever would be.

'It is the strangest thing I ever beheld,' she said. Then he looked

again; till wondering who her companion could be she asked, 'Are you

often here?' 'Every night when it is not cloudy, and often in the day.' 'Ah, night, of course. The heavens must be beautiful from this point.' 'They are rather more than that.' 'Indeed! Have you entirely taken possession of this column?' 'Entirely.' 'But it is my column,' she said, with smiling asperity.

'Then are you Lady Constantine, wife of the absent Sir Blount Constantine?' 'I am Lady Constantine.' 'Ah, then I agree that it is your ladyship's. But will you allow me to rent it of you for a time, Lady Constantine?' 'You have taken it, whether I allow it or not. However, in the interests

of science it is advisable that you continue your tenancy. Nobody knows you are here, I suppose?' 'Hardly anybody.' He then took her down a few steps into the interior, and showed her some

ingenious contrivances for stowing articles away.




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