ecause I tried to
feel if I could feel the Lamb's chair and there was nothing under him at
all but air. And we can't eat air, and I feel just as if I hadn't had
any breakfast for years and years."

"It's no use thinking about it," said Anthea. "Let's go on exploring.
Perhaps we might find something to eat."

This lighted hope in every breast, and they went on exploring the
castle. But though it was the most perfect and delightful castle you can
possibly imagine, and furnished in the most complete and beautiful
manner, neither food nor men-at-arms were to be found in it.

"If you'd only thought of wishing to be besieged in a castle thoroughly
garrisoned and provisioned!" said Jane reproachfully.

"You can't think of everything, you know," said Anthea. "I should think
it must be nearly dinner-time by now."

It wasn't; but they hung about watching the strange movements of the
servants in the middle of the courtyard, because, of course, they
couldn't be sure where the dining-room of the invisible house was.
Presently they saw Martha carrying an invisible tray across the
courtyard, for it seemed that, by the most fortunate accident, the
dining-room of the house and the banqueting-hall of the castle were in
the same place. But oh, how their hearts sank when they perceived that
the tray _was_ invisible!

They waited in wretched silence while Martha went through the form of
carving an unseen leg of mutton and serving invisible greens and
potatoes with a spoon that no one could see. When she had left the room,
the children looked at the empty table, and then at each other.

"This is worse than anything," said Robert, who had not till now been
particularly keen on his dinner.

"I'm not so very hungry," said Anthea, trying to make the best of
things, as usual.

Cyril tightened his belt ostentatiously. Jane burst into tears.

CHAPTER VII

A SIEGE AND BED

The children were sitting in the gloomy banqueting-hall, at the end of
one of the long bare wooden tables. There was now no hope. Martha had
brought in the dinner, and the dinner was invisible, and unfeelable too;
for, when they rubbed their hands along the table, they knew but too
well that for them there was nothing there _but_ table.

Suddenly Cyril felt in his pocket.

"Right, _oh_!" he cried. "Look here! Biscuits."

Somewhat broken and crumbled, certainly, but still biscuits. Three whole
ones, and a generous handful of crumbs and fragments.

"I go