uperior ancient Egyptian way it
were rather pleased to see them than not.

Anthea sat on the stairs with Imogen, who was nine come next November,
while the others went in and explained the difficulty.

The learned gentleman listened with grave attention.

'It really does seem rather rough luck,' Cyril concluded, 'because I've
often heard about rich people who wanted children most awfully--though I
know _I_ never should--but they do. There must be somebody who'd be glad
to have her.'

'Gipsies are awfully fond of children,' Robert hopefully said. 'They're
always stealing them. Perhaps they'd have her.'

'She's quite a nice little girl really,' Jane added; 'she was only
rude at first because we looked jolly and happy, and she wasn't. You
understand that, don't you?'

'Yes,' said he, absently fingering a little blue image from Egypt. 'I
understand that very well. As you say, there must be some home where she
would be welcome.' He scowled thoughtfully at the little blue image.

Anthea outside thought the explanation was taking a very long time.

She was so busy trying to cheer and comfort the little black girl that
she never noticed the Psammead who, roused from sleep by her voice, had
shaken itself free of sand, and was coming crookedly up the stairs. It
was close to her before she saw it. She picked it up and settled it in
her lap.

'What is it?' asked the black child. 'Is it a cat or a organ-monkey, or
what?'

And then Anthea heard the learned gentleman say--

'Yes, I wish we could find a home where they would be glad to have her,'
and instantly she felt the Psammead begin to blow itself out as it sat
on her lap.

She jumped up lifting the Psammead in her skirt, and holding Imogen by
the hand, rushed into the learned gentleman's room.

'At least let's keep together,' she cried. 'All hold hands--quick!'

The circle was like that formed for the Mulberry Bush or Ring-o'-Roses.
And Anthea was only able to take part in it by holding in her teeth
the hem of her frock which, thus supported, formed a bag to hold the
Psammead.

'Is it a game?' asked the learned gentleman feebly. No one answered.

There was a moment of suspense; then came that curious upside-down,
inside-out sensation which one almost always feels when transported
from one place to another by magic. Also there was that dizzy dimness of
sight which comes on these occasions.

The mist cleared, the upside-down, inside-out sensation subsided,
and