said the Phoenix, 'they think you're merely dreams. The prophecy
said that the queen would arise from the waves with a white crown and
surrounded by white dream-children. That's about what they think YOU
are!'

'And what about dinner?' said Robert, abruptly.

'There won't be any dinner, with no cook and no pudding-basin,' Anthea
reminded him; 'but there's always bread-and-butter.'

'Let's get home,' said Cyril.

The Lamb was furiously unwishful to be dressed in his warm clothes
again, but Anthea and Jane managed it, by force disguised as coaxing,
and he never once whooping-coughed.

Then every one put on its own warm things and took its place on the
carpet.

A sound of uncouth singing still came from beyond the trees where the
copper-coloured natives were crooning songs of admiration and respect
to their white-crowned queen. Then Anthea said 'Home,' just as duchesses
and other people do to their coachmen, and the intelligent carpet in
one whirling moment laid itself down in its proper place on the nursery
floor. And at that very moment Eliza opened the door and said--

'Cook's gone! I can't find her anywhere, and there's no dinner ready.
She hasn't taken her box nor yet her outdoor things. She just ran out to
see the time, I shouldn't wonder--the kitchen clock never did give her
satisfaction--and she's got run over or fell down in a fit as likely
as not. You'll have to put up with the cold bacon for your dinners; and
what on earth you've got your outdoor things on for I don't know.
And then I'll slip out and see if they know anything about her at the
police-station.'

But nobody ever knew anything about the cook any more, except the
children, and, later, one other person.

Mother was so upset at losing the cook, and so anxious about her, that
Anthea felt most miserable, as though she had done something very wrong
indeed. She woke several times in the night, and at last decided that
she would ask the Phoenix to let her tell her mother all about it. But
there was no opportunity to do this next day, because the Phoenix, as
usual, had gone to sleep in some out-of-the-way spot, after asking, as a
special favour, not to be disturbed for twenty-four hours.

The Lamb never whooping-coughed once all that Sunday, and mother and
father said what good medicine it was that the doctor had given him. But
the children knew that it was the southern shore where you can't have
whooping-cough that had cured him. The Lamb bab