And that was a Bewitchment! Everybody must vanish at once!
VII
LADY MOON’S LANTERN
On the terrace there was a Pergola—that was two rows of white columns with criss-cross bars overhead and vines growing over it. There were built-in seats between the columns, but there were always chairs besides.
There was no one in it. Down below, in the garden, there were Shapes flitting about in the dusk. They came up out of it, to the Pergola, all together; and they were the Princess and the Others.
A large spider was spinning down, with a clear yellow sky behind it, at the far end of the Pergola. They were obliged to watch it. It dropped and sprung, elastic, on the end of its thread—then dropped—and sprung; and then it clawed up again, working its legs. They could see them distinctly against the sky, though it was quite a distance away. Out at their end, the sky was cool, with a white moon in it; so there were two kinds of shadows: large, blurred ones from the last daylight; and in them, moon-shadows of the vines on the long white seats and on the floor and down one side of the Princess’s dress—sitting in a chair. The moon-shadows were very faint, but they were a clear pattern, and the daylight shadows had no edges; soon there would be only moon. It was very interesting.
And the slide of Lady Moon’s lantern was about three quarters open.
“Wasn’t it lovely she took him?” said Phyllisy. “I’d rather she than anybody else.”
“But it stopped short,” said Pat.
“That was a proper end of a story, with everybody happy,” said the Princess. “You wouldn’t want any more than that, would you?”