get theirs done. I should n't have time to go
anywhere hardly; and besides it 'd tire me, and I want to look all
fresh and neat, so the picture will be pretty."

"But suppose we promised, honor bright--"

"Begging your pardon," broke in another voice, "that's understood in
any case,--a foregone conclusion, you know. Our honor would _have_ to
be bright."

"Suppose we promised faithfully," continued the first voice, pretending
not to notice the interruption, "to bring you back in time to go in
when your turn comes, would n't you rather take a journey with us and
see any number of wonderful things than just to sit here leaning
against your mother's arm and watching these people that you think so
'stupid'?"

"Of course," assented Marjorie, at once. "It 's awful tiresome,--this;
it makes me feel just as sleepy as can be. But what 's the use of
talking? I can't leave here or I 'd lose my chance, and besides Mamma
never lets me go out with strangers."

"We 're not strangers," asserted the voice, calmly; "we are as familiar
to you as your shadow,--in fact, more so, come to think of it. You
have always known us, and so has your mother. She 'd trust you to us,
never fear! Will you come?"

Marjorie considered a moment, and then said: "Well, if you're perfectly
sure you 'll take care of me, and that you 'll bring me back in time, I
guess I will."

No sooner had she spoken than she felt herself raised from her place
and borne away out of the crowded room in which she was,--out, out into
the world, as free as the air itself, and being carried along as though
she were a piece of light thistle-down on the back of a summer breeze.

That she was travelling very fast, she could see by the way in which
she out-stripped the clouds hurrying noiselessly across the sky. One
thing she knew,--whatever progress she was making was due, not to
herself (for she was making absolutely no effort at all, seeming to be
merely reclining at ease), but was the result of some other exertion
than her own. She was not frightened in the least, but, as she grew
accustomed to the peculiar mode of locomotion, became more and more
curious to discover the source of it.

She looked about her, but nothing was visible save the azure sky above
her and the green earth beneath. She seemed to be quite alone. The
sense of her solitude began to fill her with a deep awe, and she grew
strangely uneasy: as she thought of herself, a frail little girl, ami