"I should just think I could!" said Dick emphatically. "It's very queer, but just look here," and he came up to the sideboard and placed himself by the side of his horrified father. "Why," he said, with another giggle, "we're—he-he—as like as two peas!"
They were indeed; the glass reflected now two small boys, each with chubby cheeks and auburn hair, both dressed, too, exactly alike, in Eton jackets and broad white collars; the only difference to be seen between them was that, while one face wore an expression of intense glee and satisfaction, the other—the one which Mr. Bultitude was beginning to fear must belong to him—was lengthened and drawn with dismay and bewilderment.
"Dick," said Paul faintly, "what is all this? Who has been, been taking these liberties with me?"
"I'm sure I don't know," protested Dick. "It wasn't me. I believe you did it all yourself."
"Did it all myself!" repeated Paul indignantly. "Is it likely I should? It's some trickery, I tell you, some villainous plot. The worst of it is," he added plaintively, "I don't understand who I'm supposed to be now. Dick, who am I?"
"You can't be me," said Dick, "because here I am, you know. And you're not yourself, that's very plain. You must be somebody, I suppose," he added dubiously.
"Of course I am. What do you mean?" said Paul angrily. "Never mind who I am. I feel just the same as I always did. Tell me when you first began to notice any change. Could you see it coming on at all, eh?"
"It was all at once, just as you were talking about school and all that. You said you only wished—— Why of course; look here, it must be the stone that did it!"
"Stone! what stone?" said Paul. "I don't know what you're talking about."