ither," said Hugh. "Still, it's a very queer place. I wish
Dudu, or Houpet, or some of them, had come with us!"

They set off on their climb up the steep spiral staircase. So narrow it
was, that going hand-in-hand was out of the question.

"It's worse than the staircase down to the frogs' country," said Jeanne.

Hugh looked at her triumphantly.

"There now, Jeanne, you _do_ remember," he said. "I believe it was just
pretence your saying you thought I had dreamt it all."

"No," said Jeanne, "it wasn't. You don't understand, Cheri. I'm
moonlight Jeanne, now--when we were having the dolls' feast I was
daylight Jeanne. And you know it's never moonlight in the day-time."

"Well, certainly, I _don't_ understand," said Hugh. "And one thing
particularly--how is it that in the moon-time you remember about the
day-time, if in the day you forget all about the other."

"I don't exactly forget," said Jeanne, "but it spoils things to mix them
together. And lots of things would be _quite_ spoilt if you took them
into the regular daylight. I fancy, too, one can see farther in the
moonlight--one can see more ways."

She was standing at the foot of the stair, a step or two higher than
Hugh, and the soft light, which still, in some mysterious way, seemed to
come down from above--though, looking up the spiral stair, its top
seemed lost in gloom--fell on her pretty little face. Her hair had
fallen back over her shoulders and lay dark on her pure white shiny
dress; there was a look in her eyes which Hugh had never noticed before,
as if she could see a long way off. Hugh looked at her earnestly.

"Jeanne," he said, "you're a perfect puzzle. I do wonder whether you're
half a fairy, or an angel, or a dream. I do hope you're not a dream when
you're in the moonlight. But, oh dear, I cannot understand."

"Do leave off trying to understand, Cheri," said Jeanne, "and let us
amuse ourselves. I always love _you_, Cheri, whatever I am, don't I?"

She turned towards him brightly, with such a merry smile on her face
that Hugh could not help smiling too.

"Do let us go on quickly," she said; "I do so want to see where this
stair goes to."

"Let me go first. I'm a boy, you know, and it's right I should go first
in case of meeting anything that might frighten you," said Hugh.

So he stepped up in front of Jeanne, and they slowly made their way.

It was impossible to go fast. Never was there such a twisty little
stair. Here and there, too, it