Rachel and Diana exchanged glances which contained all the wonder they felt it was better not to express.
In five minutes, having spoken to Aunt Hester on the way, they were driving through the streets in Mr. Sheston’s car, and a very little while afterwards, they entered a hall in the Museum, over the door of which was written Ephesus Room.
“Here,” said Mr. Sheston in a voice which gave no hint of all the marvellous scenes they had just beheld, “are fragments from two temples built in honour of Diana of the Ephesians. These broken pillars and pieces of carving on the right are from the temple that was burnt down on the night Alexander the Great was born. On the left, are fragments of the latest temple which was still standing when St. Paul was at Ephesus.”
Having said this—and, if they hadn’t known what they did know, it would not have interested the children in the least—he walked on to look at something on one of the walls, leaving Rachel and Diana standing in front of a piece of broken pillar.
“St. Paul may have touched this, and seen that boy with wings,” whispered Diana, gazing up at the beautiful carving upon it. “Oh, Rachel, hasn’t it been perfectly splendid?”
“Do you know,” returned Rachel, in an answering whisper, “I’m sure he was once Dinocrates—Mr. Sheston, I mean. He couldn’t know so much about him if he hadn’t been—could he? And he’s lived ever and ever so many times. He said so. And he’s been heaps of different people. Only, when he’s Mr. Sheston, you know, we mustn’t talk much about him.”
Diana nodded gravely. “I thought not. That’s why I didn’t say anything.... We must only talk about just what’s here,” she added quickly, as she saw their guide coming back to them.
The rest of the time at the Museum passed delightfully. And then, to Rachel’s joy, Mr. Sheston took them back to tea at his quaint old house, and afterwards sent them home together in his car.
“It’s jolly to be alone. Now we can talk about it,” exclaimed Diana, jumping up and down upon the comfortable springy cushions. “Wasn’t it exciting and lovely? And, somehow, it was all the more exciting in the Museum when he told us all sorts of things that we shouldn’t have understood if we hadn’t seen it all, out of your schoolroom window. It made me quite sure I had seen everything from the beginning. Not just dreamt it, you know. But, anyhow, we couldn’t have had the same dream, could we?”
“It’s heavenly that you’re a seven child too,” declared Rachel. “I was getting so tired of having to keep all my adventures a secret because no one would believe me if I told them. And now there’s you—and you understand. Oh, Diana, just think how we should have hated going to the British Museum on a holiday if we didn’t have these adventures! Aren’t you glad we belong to the ‘seven’ children?”