The Enchanted Castle. Nesbit Edith

cry, dear," said Kathleen; "let me go and tell the King and Queen."

      "The – ?"

      "Your royal father and mother."

      "Oh, don't mock me!" said the poor Princess. "You know that was only a game, too, like – "

      "Like the bread and cheese," said Jimmy triumphantly. "I knew that was!"

      "But your dress and being asleep in the maze, and – "

      "Oh, I dressed up for fun, because every one's away at the fair, and I put the clue just to make it all more real. I was playing at Fair Rosamond first, and then I heard you talking in the maze, and I thought what fun; and now I'm invisible, and I shall never come right again, never – I know I shan't! It serves me right for lying, but I didn't really think you'd believe it – not more than half, that is," she added hastily, trying to be truthful.

      "But if you're not the Princess, who are you?" asked Kathleen, still embracing the unseen.

      "I'm – my aunt lives here," said the invisible Princess. "She may be home any time. Oh, what shall I do?"

      "Perhaps she knows some charm – "

      "Oh, nonsense!" said the voice sharply; "she doesn't believe in charms. She would be so vexed. Oh, I daren't let her see me like this!" she added wildly. "And all of you here, too. She'd be so dreadfully cross."

      The beautiful magic castle that the children had believed in now felt as though it were tumbling about their ears. All that was left was the invisibleness of the Princess. But that, you will own, was a good deal.

      "I just said it," moaned the voice, "and it came true. I wish I'd never played at magic – I wish I'd never played at anything at all."

      "Oh, don't say that," Gerald said kindly. "Let's go out into the garden, near the lake, where it's cool, and we'll hold a solemn council. You'll like that, won't you?"

      "Oh!" cried Kathleen suddenly, "the buckle; that makes magic come undone!"

      "It doesn't really," murmured the voice that seemed to speak without lips. "I only just said that."

      "You only 'just said' about the ring," said Gerald. "Anyhow, let's try."

      "Not you—me," said the voice. "You go down to the Temple of Flora, by the lake. I'll go back to the jewel-room by myself. Aunt might see you."

      "She won't see you," said Jimmy.

      "Don't rub it in," said Gerald. "Where is the Temple of Flora?"

      "That's the way," the voice said; "down those steps and along the winding path through the shrubbery. You can't miss it. It's white marble, with a statue goddess inside."

      The three children went down to the white marble Temple of Flora that stood close against the side of the little hill, and sat down in its shadowy inside. It had arches all round except against the hill behind the statue, and it was cool and restful.

      They had not been there five minutes before the feet of a runner sounded loud on the gravel. A shadow, very black and distinct, fell on the white marble floor.

      "Your shadow's not invisible anyhow," said Jimmy.

      "Oh, bother my shadow!" the voice of the Princess replied. "We left the key inside the door, and it's shut itself with the wind, and it's a spring lock!"

      There was a heartfelt pause.

      Then Gerald said, in his most business-like manner:

      "Sit down, Princess, and we'll have a thorough good palaver about it."

      "I shouldn't wonder," said Jimmy, "if we was to wake up and find it was dreams."

      "No such luck," said the voice.

      "Well," said Gerald, "first of all, what's your name, and if you're not a Princess, who are you?"

      "I'm – I'm," said a voice broken with sobs, "I'm the – housekeeper's – niece – at – the – castle – and my name's Mabel Prowse."

      "That's exactly what I thought," said Jimmy, without a shadow of truth, because how could he? The others were silent. It was a moment full of agitation and confused ideas.

      "Well, anyhow," said Gerald, "you belong here."

      "Yes," said the voice, and it came from the floor, as though its owner had flung herself down in the madness of despair. "Oh yes, I belong here right enough, but what's the use of belonging anywhere if you're invisible?"

      CHAPTER III

      Those of my readers who have gone about much with an invisible companion will not need to be told how awkward the whole business is. For one thing, however much you may have been convinced that your companion is invisible, you will, I feel sure, have found yourself every now and then saying, "This must be a dream!" or "I know I shall wake up in half a sec!" And this was the case with Gerald, Kathleen, and Jimmy as they sat in the white marble Temple of Flora, looking out through its arches at the sunshiny park and listening to the voice of the enchanted Princess, who really was not a Princess at all, but just the housekeeper's niece, Mabel Prowse; though, as Jimmy said, "she was enchanted, right enough."

      "It's no use talking," she said again and again, and the voice came from an empty-looking space between two pillars; "I never believed anything would happen, and now it has."

      "Well," said Gerald kindly, "can we do anything for you? Because, if not, I think we ought to be going."

      "Yes," said Jimmy; "I do want my tea!"

      "Tea!" said the unseen Mabel scornfully. "Do you mean to say you'd go off to your teas and leave me after getting me into this mess?"

      "Well, of all the unfair Princesses I ever met!" Gerald began. But Kathleen interrupted.

      "Oh, don't rag her," she said. "Think how horrid it must be to be invisible!"

      "I don't think," said the hidden Mabel, "that my aunt likes me very much as it is. She wouldn't let me go to the fair because I'd forgotten to put back some old trumpery shoe that Queen Elizabeth wore – I got it out from the glass case to try it on."

      "Did it fit?" asked Kathleen, with interest.

      "Not it – much too small," said Mabel. "I don't believe it ever fitted any one."

      "I do want my tea!" said Jimmy.

      "I do really think perhaps we ought to go," said Gerald. "You see, it isn't as if we could do anything for you."

      "You'll have to tell your aunt," said Kathleen kindly.

      "No, no, no!" moaned Mabel invisibly; "take me with you. I'll leave her a note to say I've run away to sea."

      "Girls don't run away to sea."

      "They might," said the stone floor between the pillars, "as stowaways, if nobody wanted a cabin boy – cabin girl, I mean."

      "I'm sure you oughtn't," said Kathleen firmly.

      "Well, what am I to do?"

      "Really," said Gerald, "I don't know what the girl can do. Let her come home with us and have – "

      "Tea – oh, yes," said Jimmy, jumping up.

      "And have a good council."

      "After tea," said Jimmy.

      "But her aunt'll find she's gone."

      "So she would if I stayed."

      "Oh, come on," said Jimmy.

      "But the aunt'll think something's happened to her."

      "So it has."

      "And she'll tell the police, and they'll look everywhere for me."

      "They'll never find you," said Gerald. "Talk of impenetrable disguises!"

      "I'm sure," said Mabel, "aunt would much rather never see me again than see me like this. She'd never get over it; it might kill her – she has spasms as it is. I'll write to her, and we'll put it in the big letter-box at the gate as we go out. Has any one got a bit of pencil