“Several other kinds of insects,” said Mr. Merton, “have the same peculiarity. Some years cockchafers are so abundant as to be quite a pest, though, perhaps, the next season they are rarely to be met with. Entomologists have been puzzled to account for these changes; but with regard to the butterflies, their abundance or scarcity is said to depend chiefly on the number of ichneumons.” “Ichneumons!” cried Agnes, “I thought they were only found in Egypt.” “I do not mean the animal that destroys the eggs of the Crocodile on the banks of the Nile,” said Mr. Merton, “but a kind of fly which lays its eggs in the living bodies of caterpillars.” “Ah!” said Agnes, “I think you have told me of this fly before, mamma. I remember it now.” [Illustration: _Fig. 32._ ICHNEUMON FLY ON A FLORET OF THE FLOWERING RUSH. ] “Yes,” said Mrs. Merton, “I remember describing to you the Ichneumon that lays its eggs in the caterpillar of the Cabbage Butterfly; but there are several kinds, and there, I think, is one quite distinct hovering round the florets of that Flowering Rush.” She told the driver to stop; and Agnes distinctly saw the Ichneumon her mother had alluded to. They now passed a pretty little cottage with a large myrtle trained against it; and Mrs. Merton remarked how very few similar specimens they had seen of the mildness of the climate. “I remember, when I was a girl,” said she, “having heard so much of the myrtles of the Isle of Wight, that I expected to find the whole island a complete green-house; but, the fact is, we have seen much fewer myrtles here than we did last year in Devonshire.” Soon after they arrived at the little town of Brading; and Mrs. Merton and Agnes went to visit the Church, while Mr. Merton rested for an hour or two at the inn. As they entered the church-yard, they saw, to their great joy, their old acquaintance Mr. Bevan, whom they had not seen before since they left Carisbrook Castle. He told them he had been staying at Newport; but that he had now come to Brading to see the Church, which was the oldest in the island, part of it being said to have been built in the year 704. “It is also large for the Isle of Wight, which is remarkable for the smallness of its churches,” continued he; “and it contains some curious old tombs of the Oglanders, the founder of whose family came over with William the Conqueror; also the original of the epitaph which has been so often quoted, beginning: ‘Forgive, blest shade! the tributary tear’—I do not remember the rest, but the words are doubtless familiar to you.” As he was speaking, a woman came up, and asked if the party wished to see the church. The old gentleman replied that they did. “Because,” said she, dropping a curtsy, “my husband, as keeps the key, is gone out with the key in his pocket, and won’t be home ’till night.”