"But it's so queer," Mollie said doubtfully. "I never heard of such a thing. I must be dreaming."
The other child shook her head. "No, you're not," she said patiently. She looked around the room as though in search of inspiration, and her eyes fell upon a volume of Shakespeare which Aunt Mary had been reading: "Do you learn Shakespeare at your school?" she asked.
"Rather," Mollie answered, in a slightly superior voice; "I have acted in six plays."
"Ah—then you remember what Hamlet says: 'There are more things in
Heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy'."
"We haven't done Hamlet yet," Mollie answered, in a less superior tone, "I don't think I quite understand what that means."
"Neither do I," said the child. "That's it, you see. Papa says—" she stopped short again, and then went on. "It's nearly time for me to go—and I can never come back if you don't come this time," moving away a few steps as she spoke.
"Oh, don't go—don't go," Mollie cried. "I do want to come; it won't do anyone any harm, will it?"
The child smiled very sweetly: "Not the least in the world. But remember the vow. On your faith and honour."
"I vow, I vow—on my word of honour as a Guide. I can't say more than that."
"Give me your hand, then. Listen to the music, and shut your eyes till
I tell you to open them."