d grown people; in front of her a large opening, like a cavern,
hung with tiny lamps of various colours, in the midst of which stood
the Peri, in a Persian pink robe, white turban, and wide white
trousers, with two oriental genies attendant upon her.

A string was thrust into Cecil's hand, apparently fastened to her,
and accounting for some sharp pulls she had felt during the
whistling. She drew it in front in sharp haste, to be rid of the
obnoxious instrument; but instead of a whistle, she found in her
hand a little dust-pan and brush, fit for a baby-house, drawn
through a ring, while the children eagerly cried, "What have you
got? What have you got?"

"Some nonsense. I do not approve of practical jokes," began Cecil;
but the song only replied,

"Away, away,
In the cave no longer stay;
Others come to share our play;"

and one of the genies drew her aside, while another blindfolded
victim was being introduced with the same rites, only fare more
willingly. The only way open to here was that which led to the
window of the dining-room, where she found Anne with the children
who had had their share, and were admiring their prizes. Anne tried
to soothe her by saying, "You see every one is served alike. They
thought it would be newer than a tree."

"Did you mean to _give_ me _this_?" asked a little girl, in whose
hands Cecil had thrust her dust-pan, without a glance at it.

"Oh the ring!" said Anne. "You must keep that, Mrs. Poynsett
thought you would like it. It is a gem--some Greek goddess, I
think."

"Is this her arrangement?" asked Cecil, pointing to the dust-pan.

"Oh no! she knew nothing about that, nor I; but you see every one
has something droll. See what Mr. Bowater has!"

And Herbert Bowater showed that decidedly uncomplimentary penwiper,
where the ass's head declares "There are two of us;" while every
child had some absurdity to show; and Miss Moy's shrieks of delight
were already audible at a tortoise-shell pen-holder disguised as a
hunting-whip.

"I must go to my friends," said Cecil, vouchsafing no admiration of
the ring, though she had seen enough to perceive that it was a
beautifully engraved ruby; and she hurried back to the library, but
only to find all her birds flown, and the room empty! Pursuing them
to the drawing-room, she saw only the backs of a few, in the
rearmost rank of the eager candidates for admission to the magic
cave.

Lady Tyrrell alone saw her, and turned back from