ree grew near
it. You have no idea how nice jam tarts can taste till you have gathered
them yourself, fresh and sticky, from the tree. They are as sticky as
horse-chestnut buds, and much nicer to eat.

As he went towards the boat-house he grew happier and happier,
recognising, one after the other, all the places he and Helen had
planned and marked on the map. He passed by the marble and gold house
with _King's Palace_ painted on the door. He longed to explore it: but
the thought of Lucy drove him on. As he went down a narrow leafy
woodland path towards the boat-house, he passed the door of the dear
little thatched cottage (labelled _Queen's Palace_) which was the house
Helen had insisted that she liked best for her very own.

'How pretty it is; I wish Helen was here,' he said; 'she helped to make
it. I should never have thought of it without her. She ought to be
here,' he said. With that he felt very lonely, all of a sudden, and very
sad. And as he went on, wondering whether in all this magic world there
might not somehow be some magic strong enough to bring Helen there to
see the island that was their very own, and to give her consent to his
bringing Lucy to it, he turned a corner in the woodland path, and walked
straight into the arms of--Helen.

[Illustration: Walked straight into the arms of Helen.]

CHAPTER IX

ON THE 'LIGHTNING LOOSE'

'But how did you get here?' said Philip in Helen's arms on the island.

'I just walked out at the other side of a dream,' she said; 'how could I
not come, when the door was open and you wanted me so?'

And Philip just said, 'Oh, Helen!' He could not find any other words,
but Helen understood. She always did.

'Come,' she said, 'shall we go to your Palace or mine? I want my supper,
and we'll have our own little blue-and-white tea-set. Yes, I know you've
had your supper, but it'll be fun getting mine, and perhaps you'll be
hungry again before we've got it.'

They went to the thatched cottage that was Helen's palace, because
Philip had had almost as much of large buildings as he wanted for a
little while. The cottage had a wide chimney and an open hearth; and
they sat on the hearth and made toast, and Philip almost forgot that he
had ever had any adventures and that the toast was being made on a
hearth whose blue wood-smoke curled up among the enchanting tree-tops of
a magic island.

And before they went to bed he had told her all about everything.

'Oh, I am so