you are a member you must come here often ... you and I, the only
Ancient Souls in this vicinity ... we will work together and live only
in the Past.... Have you remembered any other previous existence?...
No? Ah, try, it will come in a flash any time.... I must come and see
your garden.... I feel that we have much in common, you and I.... We
have much to talk about.... I have all my past life to tell you of ...
what train do you come home by?... We must be friends--real
friends.... I'm sure I can help you much in your life as an Ancient
Soul.... Our names are almost the same.... Fate in some way unites
us...."

And Mr. Lambkin sat, miserable and dejected and yet with a certain
pathetic resignation. For what can one do against Fate? Then the
President caught sight of William and approached the window.

[Illustration: MR. LAMBKIN SAT, MISERABLE AND DEJECTED, AND YET WITH A
CERTAIN PATHETIC RESIGNATION.]

"Go away, boy!" she called. "You wicked, rude, prying boy, go away!"

Mr. Lambkin shot a wretched and apologetic glance at William, but
William pressed his mouth to the open slit of the window.

"All right, Mrs. Jarley's!" he called, then turned and fled.

William met Mr. Lambkin on his way to the station the next morning.
Mr. Lambkin looked thinner and there were lines of worry on his face.

"I'm sorry she sent you away, William," he said. "It must have been
interesting to watch--most interesting to watch. I'd much rather have
watched than--but there, it's very kind of her to take such an
interest in me. _Most_ kind. But I--however, she's very kind, _very_
kind. She very kindly presented me with the costume. Hardly
suitable, perhaps, but _very_ kind of her. And, of course, there _may_
be something in it. One never knows. I _may_ have been Julius Caesar,
but I hardly think--however, one must keep an open mind. Do you know
any Latin, William?"

"Jus' a bit," said William, guardedly. "I've _learnt_ a lot, but I
don't _know_ much."

"Say some to me. It might convey something to me. One never knows. She
seems so sure. Talk Latin to me, William."

"Hic, haec, hoc," said William obligingly.

Julius Caesar's reincarnation shook his head.

"No," he said, "I'm afraid it doesn't seem to mean anything to me."

"Hunc, hanc, hoc," went on William monotonously.

"I'm afraid it's no good," said Mr. Lambkin. "I'm afraid it proves
that I'm not--still one may not retain a knowledge of one's former
tongue. One must keep an