Mother picked up the Lamb and hurried
away from the pinewood.
'Let's go home,' said Jane, after a miserable silence. 'It feels
just exactly as if mother didn't love us.'
But they couldn't bear to go home till they had seen mother meet
another lady, and knew that she was safe. You cannot leave your
mother to go green in the face in a distant pinewood, far from all
human aid, and then go home on your wishing carpet as though
nothing had happened.
When mother seemed safe the children returned to the carpet, and
said 'Home'--and home they went.
'I don't care about being invisible myself,' said Cyril, 'at least,
not with my own family. It would be different if you were a
prince, or a bandit, or a burglar.'
And now the thoughts of all four dwelt fondly on the dear greenish
face of mother.
'I wish she hadn't gone away,' said Jane; 'the house is simply
beastly without her.'
'I think we ought to do what she said,' Anthea put in. 'I saw
something in a book the other day about the wishes of the departed
being sacred.'
'That means when they've departed farther off,' said Cyril.
'India's coral or Greenland's icy, don't you know; not Bournemouth.
Besides, we don't know what her wishes are.'
'She SAID'--Anthea was very much inclined to cry--'she said, "Get
Indian things for my bazaar;" but I know she thought we couldn't,
and it was only play.
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