The day was fine, and Algernon in high sprightliness and bloom, while his delighted mother, stimulated by the opportunity of comparison which now presented itself, secretly doubted in the pride of her heart that any "mortal mixture of Earth's mould" could furnish such a specimen of infant grace, as feasted her raptured eyes whenever they rested on her darling, who had now attained the fifth anniversary of his birth. Arrived at the Gipsey encampment, the party from Henbury descended from their carriage and approached a crazy tent, the back of which was turned towards the road by which our visitors had arrived at Hazle-moor. Mrs. Hartland, snatching her boy's hand, pressed eagerly forward, seeking with all her eyes, in every direction, for the little Zorilda. A group of rustic looking children were at play in front of the tent, and Mrs. Hartland darted into the midst of the circle, but not seeing any thing attractive in the coarse physiognomy of these youthful boors, she was seized with sudden alarm lest the object of her curiosity had been borne away by some fortunate rival, in the very scheme which she was herself meditating at that moment. While she paused, not perceiving any grown person to whom she could direct an enquiry, a woman came running from a little distance and called out, "the Spanish child is here, Ma'am, please to walk this way." So saying, she conducted the party to the distance of a few hundred yards, till they reached a great mound of peat which had been piled together by the peasants of the country for firing, and formed a main source of incitement to the gipsies in selecting this spot for their temporary encampment. The woman preceded, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Hartland, Algernon, and his nurse, and as they turned round the corner of the peat-rick, they were arrested with astonishment at sight of the perfection of human loveliness which burst upon their impatient view. Nothing, which was ever fashioned in the laboratory of Nature in her most plastic mood, could surpass the exquisite beauty of the cherub who lay fast asleep upon a cushion of newly gathered heath, the rich purple blossoms of which, mingling with curls of glossy jet, seemed to breathe their perfumes in token of grateful pleasure, as the mountain breeze playing amongst the tender branches wafted their delicate sprays across the infant's polished brow, as if to guard the little angel from the sun's too fervid beams.