"Never mind! you can wear it," said William generously.
Then, taking the handles of the cart, he set off down the drive. From the drawing-room came the sound of a chorus of delight as the conjurer produced a goldfish in a glass bowl from his head. From the kitchen came the sound of the hilarious laughter of the maids. Only in the dining-room, with its horrible expanse of empty table, was silence.
They walked down the road without speaking till Joan gave a little excited laugh.
"This is fun, William! I do wonder what we're going to do."
"You'll see," said William. "I'd better not tell you yet. I promised a crorse-me-throat promise I wouldn't tell anyone."
"All right, William," she said sweetly. "I don't mind a bit."
The evening was dark and rather foggy, so that the strange couple attracted little attention, except when passing beneath the street lamps. Then certainly people stood still and looked at William and his cart in open-mouthed amazement.
At last they turned down a back street towards a door that stood open to the dark, foggy night. Inside the room was a bare table at which sat a little girl, her blue, anxious eyes fixed on the open door.
"I hope he gets here before Dad," she said. "I wouldn't like Dad to come and find it not ready!"
The woman on the bed closed her eyes wearily.