"Be careful!" she panted. "We can't go yet—I was stopped. I had to talk. You say yes to whatever I say, will you? Then you can escape with me—" she smiled sweetly at Caroline—"a real escape, as they do in story books! Won't that be fine?" Her hand was at her heart again; a red circle burned in either cheek.
Caroline nodded eagerly.
"That will be grand!" she said. She had forgotten till that moment that she wanted to escape.
"Ah, Miss Aitken! Late for lunch again!"
Caroline started guiltily, for it was the voice of Bluelegs.
Joan threw her arm over Caroline's shoulder carelessly.
"Yes, Dr. Ferris, I'm afraid I am," she said. "I was delayed by this little visitor."
He looked suspiciously at them. "Who is she?" he asked.
"I don't know." Joan led Caroline along quickly. "She says she is Mary Queen of Scots."
He stared blankly.
"I found her conversing with Marie Antoinette," she went on easily, "and she seems to
