t
men. And our country shall be called Justnowland for ever and ever. And
for the future we shall not be rich and poor, but fellow-workers, and
each will do his best for his brothers and his own city. And your King
shall be your servant!'

I don't know how they managed this, but no one seemed to think that
there would be any difficulty about it when the King mentioned it; and
when people really make up their minds to do anything, difficulties do
most oddly disappear.

Wonderful rejoicings there were. The city was hung with flags and lamps.
Bands played--the performers a little out of practice, because, of
course, crows can't play the flute or the violin or the trombone--but
the effect was very gay indeed. Then came the time--it was quite
dark--when the King rose up on his throne and spoke; and Elsie, among
all her new friends, listened with them to his words.

'Our deliverer Elsie,' he said, 'was brought hither by the good magic of
our Chief Mage and Prime Minister. She has removed the enchantment that
held us; and the dragon, now that he has had his tea and recovered from
the shock of being kindly treated, turns out to be the second strongest
magician in the world,--and he will help us and advise us, so long as we
remember that we are all brothers and fellow-workers. And now comes the
time when our Elsie must return to her own place, or another go in her
stead. But we cannot send back our heroine, our deliverer.' (_Long, loud
cheering._) 'So one shall take her place. My daughter----'

The end of the sentence was lost in shouts of admiration. But Elsie
stood up, small and white in her black frock, and said, 'No thank you.
Perdona would simply hate it. And she doesn't know my daddy. He'll fetch
me away from Mrs. Staines some day....'

The thought of her daddy, far away in India, of the loneliness of Willow
Farm, where now it would be night in that horrible bare attic where the
poor dead untameable little mouse was, nearly choked Elsie. It was so
bright and light and good and kind here. And India was so far away. Her
voice stayed a moment on a broken note.

'I--I....' Then she spoke firmly.

'Thank you all so much,' she said--'so very much. I do love you all, and
it's lovely here. But, please, I'd like to go home now.'

The Prime Minister, in a silence full of love and understanding, folded
his dark cloak round her.

* * * * *

It was dark in the attic. Elsie crouching alone in t