way he was amusing. He strolled heavily along by her side for awhile in the wake of Mrs. Duff-Scott and Patty, paying no attention to the dazzling wares around him, but a great deal to his companion. He kept turning his head to gaze at her, with solemn, ruminating eyes, until at last, tired of pretending she did not notice it, she looked back at him and laughed. This seemed to put him at his ease with her at once. "What are you laughing at?" he asked, with more animation than she thought him capable of. "Nothing," said she. "Oh, but you were laughing at something. What was it? Was it because I was staring at you?" "Well, you _do_ stare," she admitted. "I can't help it. No one could help staring at you." "Why? Am I such a curiosity?" "You know why. Don't pretend you don't." She blushed at this, making herself look prettier than ever; it was not in her to pretend she didn't know--nor yet to pretend that his crude flattery displeased her. "A cat may look at a king," he remarked, his heavy face quite lit up with his enjoyment of his own delicate raillery. "O yes, certainly," she retorted. "But you see I am not a king, and you are not a cat." "'Pon my word, you're awfully sharp," he rejoined, admiringly. And he laughed over this little joke at intervals for several minutes. Then by degrees they dropped away from their party, and went straying up and down the nave _tête-à-tête_ amongst the crowd, looking at the exhibits and not much understanding what they looked at; and they carried on their conversation in much the same style as they began it, with, I grieve to say, considerable mutual enjoyment. By-and-bye Mr. Westmoreland took his young companion to the German tent, where the Hanau jewels were, by way of giving her the greatest treat he could think of. He betted her sixpence that he could tell her which necklace she liked the best, and he showed her the several articles (worth some thousands of pounds) which he should have selected for his wife, had he had a wife--declaring in the same breath that they were very poor things in comparison with such and such other things that he had seen elsewhere. Then they strolled along the gallery, glancing at the pictures as they went, Eleanor making mental notes for future study, but finding herself unable to study anything in Mr. Westmoreland's company. And then suddenly came a tall figure towards them--a gentlemanly man with a brown face and a red moustache--at sight of whom she gave a a little start of delighted recognition. "Hullo!" cried Mr. Westmoreland, "there's old Yelverton, I do declare. He _said_ he'd come over to have a look at the Exhibition." Old Yelverton was no other than "Elizabeth's young man." CHAPTER XX. CHINA V. THE CAUSE OF HUMANITY.