in great contempt by Jeremy, the more that Helen would shortly be a
day-boarder there, would scream with the other girls, and, worst of
all, would soon be seen walking with her arm round another girl's
neck, chattering and eating sweets. . .

The whole world seemed deserted. No colour, no movement, no sound.
He sighed once more--"I'd like to eat jam and jam--lots of it," he
thought. "It would be fun to be sick."

Mary arrived and swung herself up on to the window-seat.

"It's the 'Looking Glass' one. I hope you don't mind," she said
apprehensively.

"Oh, it's all right," he allowed. He flung a glance back to the
lighted nursery. It seemed by contrast with that grey world outside
to blaze with colour; the red- painted ships on the wallpaper, the
bright lights and shadows of "The Charge of the Light Brigade," the
salmon fronts of the doll's house, the green and red of the village
on the floor with the flowery trees, the blue tablecloth, the
shining brass coal-scuttle all alive and sparkling in the flames and
shadows of the fire, caught and held by the fine gold of the higher
fender. Beyond that dead white--soon it would be dark, the curtains
would be drawn, and still there would be nothing to do. He sighed
again.

"It's a nice bit about the shop," said Mary. Jeremy said nothing, so
she began. She started at a run:

"She looked at the Queen, who seemed to have'"--sniff, sniff-" 'sud-