And now away they speed again—up the Waterloo Road—over the bridge. Then and there it was that a splendid and soul-stirring spectacle burst upon the sight of Perdita:—for an instant her admiration was rivetted to that magnificent piece of masonry constituting the finest viaduct of the kind in the whole world;—but in the next she threw her glances right and left, embracing thus rapidly all the splendid features of a scene bathed in silver by the cloudless lamp of night. The bosom of the mighty Thames reflected the lights on the banks and the bridges,—those very lights tracing the course of the proud stream and marking its ample width:—then her looks dwelt on the mighty dome of Saint Paul’s, rearing its colossal head to the deep purple summer sky;—and lastly they ran rapidly along the northern shore, embracing each point of interest, until they stopped at the New Houses of Parliament, so gleamingly white in the chaste lustre of the moon.
“Yes, mother,” she whispered, in an exulting tone: “this is indeed a stupendous city!”
“You have seen nothing of it as yet,” was the reply. “But here we must alight,” added the old woman, the moment the cart reached the Strand.
The wanderers accordingly descended; and, having proffered their hearty thanks to the butcher for his kindness, they continued their journey on foot, their way now lying in the direction of Brompton.
Along the Strand they proceeded—through Spring Gardens—into St. James’s Park,—Perdita admiring the fine buildings which she passed; for the morning was now breaking, and each grand feature of that part of the metropolis emerged slowly and majestically from obscurity.
Perdita’s mother, in pointing out Carlton House to her daughter, observed, “When I was last in England George the Fourth was King; and that was his favourite residence.”
They proceeded through the park;—and now Perdita beheld the abode of the Queen of England—that palace on which so much of the country’s money has been shamefully squandered, and with the arrangements of which her Majesty is still dissatisfied! God help Victoria, if she cannot contrive to make herself comfortable at Buckingham House; we sincerely hope that she will always find such quarters gratuitously provided for her, and that she will learn not to grumble at them. Contrast that palace with the working-man’s home, and then let us see whether Parliament would be justified in voting another sixpence to enlarge or improve the sovereign residence. Oh! how loathsome—how revolting to our mind are the caprices, the selfishness, and the insolence of Royalty!
The two wanderers now entered the spacious district of Pimlico, which they traversed painfully—for they had become almost as wearied as when they were toiling on between Dartford and Shooter’s Hill.
“Shall we soon be there, mother?” enquired Perdita, her handsome countenance bearing a care-worn expression as if patience and strength were alike nearly exhausted.
“In less than twenty minutes now,” was the answer, “we shall reach the place whither we are bound.”