They turned to look at each other.
“Why,” said Edred, “you’re not a cat any more!”
“No more are you, if it comes to that,” said Elfrida. “Oh, Edred, they’re going in at the big gate! Do you think it’s really real—or have we just dreamed it—this time? It was much more dreamish than any of the other things.”
“I feel,” said Edred, sitting down abruptly, “as if I’d been a cat all my life, and been swung round by my tail every day of my life. I think I’ll sit here till I’m quite sure whether I’m a white cat or Edred Arden.”
“I know which I am,” said Elfrida; but she, too, was not sorry to sit down.
“That’s easy. You aren’t either of them,” said Edred.
· · · · ·
When, half an hour later, they slowly went down to the castle, still doubtful whether anything magic had ever really happened, or whether all the magic things that had seemed to happen had really been only a sort of double, or twin, dream. They were met at the door by Aunt Edith, pale as the pearl and ivory of the white clock, and with eyes that shone like the dewdrops on the wild flowers that Elfrida had given to the Queen.
“Oh, kiddies!” she cried. “Oh, dear, darling kiddies!”
And she went down on her knees so that she should be nearer their own height and could embrace them on more equal terms.