come upon him when he found that he had
saved his own skin and left Lucy alone in an unknown and dangerous
world; 'not exactly happy, I shouldn't call it.'

'It's beautiful being a Princess,' said Lucy. 'I wonder what your next
noble deed will be. I wonder whether I could help you with it?' She
looked wistfully at him.

'If I'm going to do noble deeds I'll do them. I don't want any help,
thank you, especially from girls,' he answered.

'I wish you did,' said Lucy, and finished her bread and milk.

Philip's bowl also was empty. He stretched arms and legs and neck.

'It is rum,' he said; 'before this began I never thought a thing like
this _could_ begin, did you?'

'I don't know,' she said, 'everything's very wonderful. I've always been
expecting things to be more wonderful than they ever have been. You get
sort of hints and nudges, you know. Fairy tales--yes, and dreams, you
can't help feeling they must mean _something_. And your sister and my
daddy; the two of them being such friends when they were little, and
then parted and then getting friends again;--_that's_ like a story in a
dream, isn't it? And your building the city and me helping. And my daddy
being such a dear darling and your sister being such a darling dear. It
did make me think beautiful things were sort of likely. Didn't it you?'

'No,' said Philip; 'I mean yes,' he said, and he was in that moment
nearer to liking Lucy than he had ever been before; 'everything's very
wonderful, isn't it?'

'Ahem!' said a respectful cough behind them.

They turned to meet the calm gaze of Double-six.

'If you've quite finished breakfast, Sir Philip,' he said, 'Mr. Noah
would be pleased to see you in his office.'

'Me too?' said Lucy, before Philip could say, 'Only me, I suppose?'

'You may come too, if you wish it, your Highness,' said Double-six,
bowing stiffly.

They found Mr. Noah very busy in a little room littered with papers; he
was sitting at a table writing.

'Good-morning, Princess,' he said, 'good-morning, Sir Philip. You see me
very busy. I am trying to arrange for your next labour.'

'Do you mean my next deed of valour?' Philip asked.

'We have decided that all your deeds need not be deeds of valour,' said
Mr. Noah, fiddling with a pen. 'The strange labours of Hercules, you
remember, were some of them dangerous and some merely difficult. I have
decided that difficult things shall count. There are several things that
really _need_ doing,' he w