e from some one further back in the
room, but we could not distinguish the words--

'There aren't any stars. You may as well shut the window. And stars
aren't much good. I want some one to play with me. Other little--' but
just then we saw the shadow of some one crossing the room, and the
window--it was a glass-door kind of window like the ones up above, which
opened on to the balcony, for there was a little sort of balcony
downstairs too--was quickly closed. There was no more to be heard or
seen; not even shadows, for the curtains were now drawn across.

Pete gave a deep sigh, and I felt that he was looking at me, though it
was too dark to see, and there was no lamp just there. He wanted to know
what I thought.

'Come along,' I said, and we walked on.

'Did you hear?' asked Peterkin at last. 'She said she wanted somebody to
play with her.'

'Yes,' I said, 'it is rather queer. You'd think Mrs. Wylie might have
made friends with her, and invited her to tea. But it's no good our
bothering about it,' and I walked a little faster, and began to whistle.
I did not want Pete to go on again talking a lot about his invisible
princess, for such she seemed likely to remain.

It was far easier, however, to get anything into Peterkin's fancy than
to get it out again, as I might have known by experience. We had not
gone far before I felt him tugging at my arm.

'Don't walk so fast, Gilley,' he said--poor, little chap, he was quite
breathless with trying to keep up with me, so I had to slacken a
bit,--'and do let me talk to you. When we get home I shan't have a
chance--not till to-morrow morning in bed, I daresay; for they'll all be
wanting to hear about Mrs. Wylie, and what we had for tea, and
everything.'

I did not so much mind about _that_ part of it, but I did not want to be
awakened before dawn the next morning to listen to all he'd got to say.
So I thought I might as well let him come out with some of it.

'What do you want to talk about?' I said.

'Oh! of course, you know,' he replied. 'It's about the _poor_ little
girl. I am so dreffully sorry for her, Gilley, and I want to plan
something. It's no good asking Mrs. Wylie. We'll have to do something
ourselves. I'm afraid the people she's with lock her up, or something.
_P'raps_ they daren't let her go out, if there's some wicked fairy, or a
witch, or something like that, that wants to run off with her.'

'Well, then, the best thing to do _is_ to lock her up,' I sai