ed the Lion gently; "that never fades."

"Only the memory," echoed Ridgwell thoughtfully.

"Nobody can ever take that away from you," said the Lion.

"Did any other little boy ever have the Great Order of Imagination,
Lal?"

"Yes," said the Lion, "there was _one_ who had the highest and greatest
order of all, the Pure Soul of Imagination itself." The Lion paused
and seemed to be thinking.

"Where is he now?" whispered Ridgwell, for unconsciously he seemed to
have lowered his voice.

The Lion lifted his great and noble head, and looked upwards towards
the silver stars above them. The Lion shook his head doubtfully, and
the children noticed that there was something very like a tear in his
eyes.

"I don't know which particular star," said the Lion, "but somewhere
there, I think; but then, you see, I'm only a Pagan."

The Lion stopped and purred; they were outside the familiar windows of
their own home.

"Oh, Lal," whispered the children, "how shall we remember all we've
seen to-night; how shall we be able to think about it and go through it
all again, if the Order of Imagination has been taken away from us and
if we are never to speak to you again, and only to see you once more?
Even then you cannot tell us _how_ we are going to see you."

The Lion smiled. "I can arrange that easily. Be of good heart, little
Ridgwell and Christine. I know a writer--he comes and talks to me at
night sometimes, though I never answer him--and I will suggest he
writes it all down for you. I can ask him things without saying a
word."

"Will you?" pleaded the children. "Oh, please ask him, Lal!"

"Yes," said the Lion, "I will; good-night."

CHAPTER IV

PREPARING FOR A VISITOR

Upon the third day after bidding good-bye to their strange friend, the
children felt they had every reason to be excited as to what events the
day would bring forth, to say nothing of endless speculations as to the
manner in which their most uncommon visitor might choose to appear to
them.

Consequently after Ridgwell had opened his birthday presents the first
thing in the morning, he held a sort of council of war with Christine.

"You see, Chris, fortunately the house hasn't any underneath part,"
explained Ridgwell, "so that we can keep watch, both of us, all on one
floor so to speak. You take guard of the French windows in the
drawing-room where you can see the greater part of the garden, and I
will watch the windows of the dining-roo