head and sat up, she saw, standing beside her sofa, as large as
life, the prim little girl--wide skirts, white stockings, tasselled
boots, and all.

As Mollie stared "with all her eyes" as people say, the little girl
smiled at her again, and she noticed that, although the child's
dress was so very old-fashioned, her smile was quite a To-day smile,
so to speak.

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mollie, "who are you?"

"I am a Time-traveller," the child answered, speaking in a
peculiarly soft voice. "You called me, so I came."

"What on earth is a Time-traveller?" asked Mollie, rather surprised
to find that she did not feel in the least alarmed at this sudden
apparition.

"A person who travels in Time," the child replied. "I am one, and
you are one, but everybody isn't one. I can't explain, so you'd
better not waste time asking questions if you want to travel. I
can't wait here long."

"But--" said Mollie, looking bewildered, as well she might. "Travel
where? Of course I'd love to come, but how can I with a crocked-up
ankle; and what would Grannie say?"

"Those things don't matter to Time-travellers," said the other
child. "We travel about in Time. You haven't got to think about what
is happening here and now--that will be all right. But you have to