hings he
thought of. Then "Wells" means springs of clear water. It's a nice name,
don't you think?'

Here Wells returned with strawberries and cakes and lemonade on a tray,
and everybody ate and enjoyed.

'Now, Wells,' said the lady, 'run off or you'll be late and not meet
your Daddy.'

Wells kissed her, waved to the others, and went.

'Look here,' said Anthea suddenly, 'would you like to come to OUR
country, and see what it's like? It wouldn't take you a minute.'

The lady laughed. But Jane held up the charm and said the word.

'What a splendid conjuring trick!' cried the lady, enchanted with the
beautiful, growing arch.

'Go through,' said Anthea.

The lady went, laughing. But she did not laugh when she found herself,
suddenly, in the dining-room at Fitzroy Street.

'Oh, what a HORRIBLE trick!' she cried. 'What a hateful, dark, ugly
place!'

She ran to the window and looked out. The sky was grey, the street was
foggy, a dismal organ-grinder was standing opposite the door, a beggar
and a man who sold matches were quarrelling at the edge of the pavement
on whose greasy black surface people hurried along, hastening to get to
the shelter of their houses.

'Oh, look at their faces, their horrible faces!' she cried. 'What's the
matter with them all?'

'They're poor people, that's all,' said Robert.

'But it's NOT all! They're ill, they're unhappy, they're wicked! Oh,
do stop it, there's dear children. It's very, very clever. Some sort of
magic-lantern trick, I suppose, like I've read of. But DO stop it. Oh!
their poor, tired, miserable, wicked faces!'

The tears were in her eyes. Anthea signed to Jane. The arch grew, they
spoke the words, and pushed the lady through it into her own time and
place, where London is clean and beautiful, and the Thames runs clear
and bright, and the green trees grow, and no one is afraid, or anxious,
or in a hurry. There was a silence. Then--

'I'm glad we went,' said Anthea, with a deep breath.

'I'll never throw paper about again as long as I live,' said Robert.

'Mother always told us not to,' said Jane.

'I would like to take up the Duties of Citizenship for a special
subject,' said Cyril. 'I wonder if Father could put me through it. I
shall ask him when he comes home.'

'If we'd found the Amulet, Father could be home NOW,' said Anthea, 'and
Mother and The Lamb.'

'Let's go into the future AGAIN,' suggested Jane brightly. 'Perhaps we
could remember if it wasn't su