hould n't mind, for there's nothing that a
woman of determination and energy can't accomplish." There was a pause,
and then Aunt Jane added, "I am going to have some guests to dinner this
evening, so run round and amuse yourself as well as you can. There's
ever so much to see in the castle, and in the garden there's a pond with
swans in it."

Attended by her servants, Aunt Jane majestically walked away. Peter
spent the afternoon exploring the castle. He went through room after
room; he scurried through the attics like a mouse, and was even lost for
a while in the cellars. And everywhere he went, he found everything
immovable. The beds, tables, and chairs could neither be moved about nor
lifted up, and even the clocks and vases were mysteriously fastened to
their places on the shelves.

The night came on. Coach after coach rolled up to the diamond door,
which sparkled in the moonlight. When the guests had all arrived, a
silver trumpet sounded, and Aunt Jane, dressed in a wonderful gown of
flowering brocade edged with pearls, came solemnly down the great
stairway of the castle hall. Two little black boys, dressed in oriental
costume and wearing turbans, held up her gorgeous train, and she looked
very grand indeed. Peter, to his great surprise, found himself dressed
in a wonderful suit of plum-colored velvet.

"Welcome, my friends," said Queen Jane, who had opened a wonderful
ostrich-feather fan. "Are we not fortunate in having so beautiful a
night for our dinner?"

And the Queen, giving her arm to a splendid personage in the uniform of
an officer of the King's dragoons, led the way to the banquet-hall.

The wonderful party, all silks and satins, and gleaming with jewels,
swept like a peacock's tail behind her. Soon dinner was over, and the
guests began to stray by twos and threes to the ballroom. Aunt Jane and
the soldier led off the grand march; then came wonderful, stately
minuets, quadrilles, and sweet old-fashioned waltzes. The merriment was
at its height when somebody ran heavily up the great stairs leading to
the ballroom, and the guests, turning round to see whence came the
clatter, saw standing in the doorway a strange old man dressed in a robe
of cherry scarlet and wearing golden shoes. It was the seller of dreams.
His white hair was disheveled, his robe was awry, and there was dust on
his golden shoes.

"Foolish people!" screamed the old seller of dreams, his voice rising to
a shriek, "Run your lives! Thi