many. She
objected to his singing, she objected to his shouting, she objected to
his watching her over the wall, and she objected to his throwing
sticks at her cat. She objected both verbally and in writing. This
persecution was only partly compensated for by occasional glimpses of
meetings of the Ancient Souls. For the Ancient Souls met in costume,
and sometimes William could squeeze through the hole in the fence and
watch the Ancient Souls meeting in the dining-room. Miss Gregoria Mush
arrayed as Mary, Queen of Scots (one of her many previous existences)
was worth watching. And always there was the garden on the other side.
Mr. Gregorius Lambkin made no objections and wrote no notes. But
clouds of Fate were gathering round Mr. Gregorius Lambkin. William
first heard of it one day at lunch.

"I saw the old luny talking to poor little Lambkin to-day," said
Robert, William's elder brother.

In these terms did Robert refer to the august President of the Society
of Ancient Souls.

And the next news Robert brought home was that "poor little Lambkin"
had joined the Society of Ancient Souls, but didn't seem to want to
talk about it. He seemed very vague as to his previous existence, but
he said that Miss Gregoria Mush was sure that he had been Julius
Caesar. The knowledge had come to her in a flash when he raised his hat
and she saw his bald head.

There was a meeting of the Ancient Souls that evening, and William
crept through the hole and up to the dining-room window to watch. A
gorgeous scene met his eye. Noah conversed agreeably with Cleopatra in
the window seat, and by the piano Napoleon discussed the Irish
question with Lobengula. As William watched, his small nose flattened
against a corner of the window, Nero and Dante arrived, having shared
a taxi from the station. Miss Gregoria Mush, tall and gaunt and
angular, presided in the robes of Mary, Queen of Scots, which was her
favourite previous existence. Then Mr. Gregorius Lambkin arrived. He
looked as unhappy as it is possible for man to look. He was dressed in
a toga and a laurel wreath. Heat and nervousness had caused his small
waxed moustache to droop. His toga was too long and his laurel wreath
was crooked. Miss Gregoria Mush received him effusively. She carried
him off to a corner seat near the window, and there they conversed,
or, to be more accurate, she talked and he listened. The window was
open and William could hear some of the things she said.

"Now