atue and
hang garlands on it."

But when it turned out that Cyril's foot had only gone to sleep through
his sitting too long with it under him, and when it came to life in an
agony of pins and needles, the others were quite cross.

"Giving us such a fright for nothing!" said Anthea.

[Illustration: Martha emptied a toilet-jug of cold water over him]

The third and miserablest silence of all was broken by Jane. She
said--

"If we _do_ come out of this all right, we'll ask the Sammyadd to make
it so that the servants don't notice anything different, no matter what
wishes we have."

The others only grunted. They were too wretched even to make good
resolutions.

At last hunger and fright and crossness and tiredness--four very nasty
things--all joined together to bring one nice thing, and that was sleep.
The children lay asleep in a row, with their beautiful eyes shut and
their beautiful mouths open. Anthea woke first. The sun had set, and the
twilight was coming on.

Anthea pinched herself very hard, to make sure, and when she found she
could still feel pinching she decided that she was not stone, and then
she pinched the others. They, also, were soft.

"Wake up," she said, almost in tears for joy; "it's all right, we're not
stone. And oh, Cyril, how nice and ugly you do look, with your old
freckles and your brown hair and your little eyes. And so do you all!"
she added, so that they might not feel jealous.

When they got home they were very much scolded by Martha, who told them
about the strange children.

"A good-looking lot, I must say, but that impudent."

"I know," said Robert, who knew by experience how hopeless it would be
to try to explain things to Martha.

"And where on earth have you been all this time, you naughty little
things, you?"

"In the lane."

"Why didn't you come home hours ago?"

"We couldn't because of _them_," said Anthea.

"Who?"

"The children who were as beautiful as the day. They kept us there till
after sunset. We couldn't come back till they'd gone. You don't know how
we hated them! Oh, do, do give us some supper--we are so hungry."

"Hungry! I should think so," said Martha angrily; "out all day like
this. Well, I hope it'll be a lesson to you not to go picking up with
strange children--down here after measles, as likely as not! Now mind,
if you see them again, don't you speak to them--not one word nor so
much as a look--but come straight away and tell me. I'll spoil t