“ St. Paul’s,” said Captain Bartolus, who stood by her side. “The Tower of London,” he continued. “Greenwich Hospital, erected in memory of Queen Mary by her husband, his late Majesty, William the Third. Westminster Abbey. The Houses of Parliament.” As he spoke, each of these famous buildings rose to view. It was a fine September morning. A myriad of little watercraft plied from bank to bank. Rarely has a gayer, or more interesting, spectacle presented itself to the gaze of a returned traveller. Orlando hung over the prow, absorbed in wonder. Her eyes had been used too long to savages and nature not to be entranced by these urban glories. That, then, was the dome of St. Paul’s which Mr.