THE ENCHANTED CASTLE (Illustrated Edition). Edith Nesbit

were tumbling about their ears. All that was left was the invisibleness of the Princess. But that, you will own, was a good deal.

      "I just said it," moaned the voice, "and it came true. I wish I'd never played at magic—I wish I'd never played at anything at all."

      "Oh, don't say that," Gerald said kindly. "Let's go out into the garden, near the lake, where it's cool, and we'll hold a solemn council. You'll like that, won't you?"

      "Oh!" cried Kathleen suddenly, "the buckle; that makes magic come undone!"

      "It doesn't really," murmured the voice that seemed to speak without lips. "I only just said that."

      "You only 'just said' about the ring," said Gerald. "Anyhow, let's try."

      "Not you—me," said the voice. "You go down to the Temple of Flora, by the lake. I'll go back to the jewel-room by myself. Aunt might see you."

      "She won't see you," said Jimmy.

      "Don't rub it in," said Gerald. "Where is the Temple of Flora?"

      "That's the way," the voice said; "down those steps and along the winding path through the shrubbery. You can't miss it. It's white marble, with a statue goddess inside."

      The three children went down to the white marble Temple of Flora that stood close against the side of the little hill, and sat down in its shadowy inside. It had arches all round except against the hill behind the statue, and it was cool and restful.

      They had not been there five minutes before the feet of a runner sounded loud on the gravel. A shadow, very black and distinct, fell on the white marble floor.

      "Your shadow's not invisible anyhow," said Jimmy.

      "Oh, bother my shadow!" the voice of the Princess replied. "We left the key inside the door, and it's shut itself with the wind, and it's a spring lock!"

      There was a heartfelt pause.

      Then Gerald said, in his most business-like manner:

      "Sit down, Princess, and we'll have a thorough good palaver about it."

      "I shouldn't wonder," said Jimmy, "if we was to wake up and find it was dreams."

      "No such luck," said the voice.

      "Well," said Gerald, "first of all, what's your name, and if you're not a Princess, who are you?"

      "I'm—I'm," said a voice broken with sobs, "I'm the—housekeeper's—niece—at—the—castle—and my name's Mabel Prowse."

      "That's exactly what I thought," said Jimmy, without a shadow of truth, because how could he? The others were silent. It was a moment full of agitation and confused ideas.

      "Well, anyhow," said Gerald, "you belong here."

       "YOUR SHADOW'S NOT INVISIBLE, ANYHOW," SAID JIMMY.

      "Yes," said the voice, and it came from the floor, as though its owner had flung herself down in the madness of despair. "Oh yes, I belong here right enough, but what's the use of belonging anywhere if you're invisible?"