ry of where he had last put them on, and of some one who had helped
him. But it all passed like a swift meteor across the dark night of his
forgetfulness and was lost in mist.

"You mustn't judge by these silly clothes," he laughed. "I shall change
them as soon as I get--as soon as I can find----" He stopped short. No
words came. A feeling of utter loneliness and despair swept suddenly
over him, drenching him from head to foot. He felt lost and friendless,
naked, homeless, cold. He was ever on the brink of regaining a whole lot
of knowledge and experience that he had known once long ago, ever so
long ago, but it always kept just out of his reach. He glanced at Miss
Lake, feeling that she was his only possible comfort in a terrible
situation. She met his look and drew him tenderly towards her.

"Now, listen to me," she said gently, "I've something to tell you--about
myself."

He was all attention in a minute.

"I am a discharged governess," she began, holding her breath when once
the words were out.

"Discharged!" he repeated vaguely. "What's that? What for?"

"For frightening a child. I told a little boy awful stories that weren't
true. They terrified him so much that I was sent away. That's why I'm
here now. It's my punishment. I am a prisoner here until I can find
him--and help him to escape----"

"Oh, I say!" he exclaimed quickly, as though remembering something. But
it passed, and he looked up at her half-bored, half-politely. "Escape
from what?" he asked.

"From here. This is the Empty House I told the stories about; _and you
are the little boy I frightened_. Now, at last, I've found you, and am
going to save you." She paused, watching him with eyes that never left
his face for an instant.

Jimbo was delighted to hear he was going to be rescued, but he felt no
interest at all in her story of having frightened a little boy, who was
himself. He thought it was very nice of her to take so much trouble, and
he told her so, and when he went up and kissed her and thanked her, he
saw to his surprise that she was crying. For the life of him he could
not understand why a discharged governess whom he met, apparently, for
the first time in the Empty House, should weep over him and show him so
much affection. But he could think of nothing to say, so he just waited
till she had finished.

"You see, if I can save you," she said between her sobs, "it will be all
right again, and I shall be forgiven, and shall be able t