Her Season in Bath: A Story of Bygone Days. Marshall Emma

of the particular mountain in the moon to which the telescope was directed.

      Presently he exclaimed, "I have it! – write."

      And as Caroline turned to enter the figures dictated to her, a gentleman who was passing paused.

      "May I be allowed to look into that telescope, madam?" he asked.

      Caroline only replied in a low voice:

      "Wait, sir; he has not finished. He is in the midst of an abstruse problem."

      "I have it – I have it!" was the next exclamation. "Write. It is the highest of the range. There is snow on it – and – yes, I am pretty sure. Now, Caroline, we will mount again, and I will make some observations on the nebulæ – the night is so glorious."

      "William, this gentleman asks if he may be allowed to look into the telescope."

      "Certainly – certainly, sir. Have you never seen her by the help of a reflector before?"

      "No, never; that is to say, by the help of any instrument so gigantic as this."

      William Herschel tossed back his then abundant hair, and said:

      "Gigantic! – nay, sir; the giant is to come. This is the pigmy, but now stand here, and I will adjust the lens to your sight – so! Do you see?"

      "Wonderful!" was the exclamation after a minute's silence. "Wonderful! May I, sir, introduce myself as Dr. Watson, and may I follow up this acquaintance by a call to-morrow?"

      "You will do me great honour, sir; and if you care for music, be with us to-morrow at three o'clock, when my sister there will discourse some real melody, if so it should please you. Is it not so, Caroline?"

      "There will be more attractive music than mine, brother," Miss Herschel said.

      "I doubt it, if, as I hear," said Dr. Watson, with a low bow, "the musical world finds in Miss Herschel a worthy successor to the fair Linley, who has made Sheridan happy – maybe happier than he deserves!"

      Caroline Herschel bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment, and said:

      "Miss Farinelli carries the palm, sir. Now, brother, shall we return to the top of the house?"

      She was almost numb with cold, but she made no complaint; and when the telescope with all the instruments had been conveyed to the top story, she patiently stood far into the night, while her brother swept the heavens, and took notes of all he said, as his keen glances searched the star depths, and every now and then exchanged an expression of wonder and delight with his faithful friend, and the sharer of all his toils and all his joys.

      So, while the gay world of Bath wore away the night in the hot chase for pleasure, this brother and sister pursued their calm and earnest way towards the attainment of an end, which has made their names a watch-word for all patient learners and students of the great mysteries of the universe, for all time.

      "The thirty-foot reflector, Caroline! That is the grand aim. Shall I ever accomplish it? We must make our move at once, for I must have a basement where I can work undisturbed. I find the pounding of the loam will be a work of patience."

      "Like all work," Caroline said, as she retired, not to bed, but to the copying of the score, from which occupation she had been disturbed when her brother called her.

      "Expenses are ahead," she said to herself. "Money – money, we shall want money for this thirty-foot; and, after all, it may be a vain hope that we shall produce it. Thirty-foot! Well, music must find the money. Music is our handle, our talisman which is to turn the common things into gold."

      "Well, Alex, is that you? Have you been playing as usual?"

      "Playing, yes; and you had better play too, you look quite an old Frau, Lina."

      "I don't doubt it – not I; a contrast to your painted dames at Wiltshire's."

      "One, at least, was not painted. She is a queen! – she is lovely."

      Caroline laughed a little ironical laugh.

      "Another flame! Poor Alex! you will sure be consumed ere long."

      "You won't laugh when you see her, Lina; and she is coming to-morrow to listen to your singing. Travers has told me she was raving about your singing at Madam Colebrook's the other evening, and he is to be here to-morrow and introduce her."

      "He is very obliging, I am sure," said Caroline with another little laugh. "There is a letter to Ronzini which should be sent by a messenger early to-morrow to Bristol. Can you write it?"

      "It is early to-morrow now," replied Alex. "Stay, good sister. I must to bed, and you should follow, or you will not be in trim to sing to the lady fair to-morrow. Come!"

      "The bees make the honey, Alex; it would not answer if all were butterflies. You are one of those who think that folks were made to make your life pleasant."

      "Bees can sting, I see," was Alexander's remark. "But give me a kiss, Lina; we don't forget our old home-love, do we? Let us hold together."

      "I am willing, dear Alex; if I am crabbed at times, make excuses. These servants are a pest. I could fancy this last is a thief: the odds and ends vanish, who knows how? Oh! I do long for the German households which go on oiled wheels, and don't stop and put everyone out – time and temper too – like these English ones."

      "We will all hasten back to Hanover, sister, with the telescopes at our backs, when – "

      "When the thirty-foot mirror is made. Ah! – a – "

      This last interjection was prolonged, and turned into a sigh, almost a groan.

      When Alex was gone his sister got up and walked two or three times round the room, drank a glass of cold water, opened the shutters, and looked out into the night.

      The moon had passed out of the ken of Rivers Street now, but its light was throwing sharp blue shadows from the roofs of the houses, and the figure of the watch-man with his multitude of capes as he stood motionless opposite the window from which Caroline Herschel was looking out into the night.

      Presently the dark shadow of the watchman's figure moved. He sounded his rattle and walked on, calling in his ringing monotone:

      "It is just two o'clock, and a fine frosty morning. All well."

      As the sound died away with the watchman's heavy footsteps, Caroline Herschel closed the shutter, and saying, "I am wide awake now," reseated herself at the table, and wrote steadily on till the clock from the Abbey church had struck four, when at last she went to bed.

      Her naturally strong physique, her unemotional nature, and her calm and quiet temper, except when pestered by her domestics' misdemeanours, were in Caroline Herschel's favour. Her head had scarcely touched the pillow before she was in a sound refreshing sleep, while many of the votaries of fashion tossed on their uneasy beds till day-dawn.

      CHAPTER IV.

      MUSIC

      Griselda Mainwaring was up very much earlier than Lady Betty on all occasions, but on the morning after the ball in Wiltshire's Rooms she was dressed and in the sitting-room before her ladyship had made any sign of lifting her heavy head from the pillow. Heavy, indeed, as she had been too cross and too tired to allow Graves to touch the erection of powder and puff, which had cost Mr. Perkyns so many sighs.

      Griselda had taken down her own hair without help, and had shaken the powder out of its heavy masses – no easy task, and requiring great patience.

      "I will forswear powder henceforth," she said, as she looked at herself in the glass. "Lady Betty says truly, powder must go with paint. I will have neither."

      So the long, abundant tresses were left to their own sweet will, their lustre dimmed by the remains of the powder at the top, but the under tresses were falling in all their rippling beauty over her shoulders.

      Amelia Graves brought her a cup of chocolate and some finger-biscuits, saying:

      "Her ladyship has already had two breakfasts, and after the last has gone off to sleep again."

      "I hope she will remember she promised to go to Mr. Herschel's