silent, and the Ball said, “What’s the matter, girl-bouncer? Out with it.”
So she said, “I was wondering how mother is, and whether she has one of her bad headaches.”
The Ball said, “Good little girl! Come with me and I’ll show you something.”
He bounced away, and they followed him, and he flopped into a rocky pool, frightening the limpets and sea-anemones dreadfully, though he did not mean to.
“Now look,” he called from under the water, and the children looked, and the pool was like a looking-glass, only it was not their own faces they saw in it.
They saw the drawing-room at home, and father and mother, who were both quite well, only they looked tired—and the aunt and uncle were there—and Uncle Thomas was saying, “What a blessing those children are away.”
“Then they know where we are?” said Selim to the Ball.
“They think they know,” said the Ball, “or you think they think they know. Anyway, they’re happy enough. Good-night.”
And he curled himself up like a ball in his favourite sleeping-place. The two children
