“It’s after the great reformer—surely you’ve heard of him? He lived in the dark ages, and he saw that what you ought to do is to find out what you want and then try to get it. Up to then people had always tried to tinker up what they’d got. We’ve got a great many of the things he thought of. Then ‘Wells’ means springs of clear water. It’s a nice name, don’t you think?”
Here Wells returned with strawberries and cakes and lemonade on a tray, and everybody ate and enjoyed.
“Now, Wells,” said the lady, “run off or you’ll be late and not meet your Daddy.”
Wells kissed her, waved to the others, and went.
“Look here,” said Anthea suddenly, “would you like to come to our country, and see what it’s like? It wouldn’t take you a minute.”
The lady laughed. But Jane held up the charm and said the word.
“What a splendid conjuring trick!” cried the lady, enchanted with the beautiful, growing arch.
“Go through,” said Anthea.
The lady went, laughing. But she did not laugh when she found herself, suddenly, in the dining-room at Fitzroy Street.
“Oh, what a horrible trick!” she cried. “What a hateful, dark, ugly place!”