"What about a picnic lunch on the Roman Remains?" suggested Miss Price, undaunted.
"I don't think people should picnic on Roman remains," said Carey.
Miss Price gave her a curious look, and then she turned to Charles. "Have you any suggestions, Charles?" "What is Paul going to do?" asked Charles suspiciously.
Miss Price looked a little taken aback. "Why, go with you. Unless, perhaps, you go to the Roman Remains. That is a little far-" "I think," said Charles, "we should go somewhere where Paul can come too." Miss Price looked surprised. "Well, of course, that would be nicer. I just thought-that sometimes you and Carey like to do things on your own-" "No," said Carey firmly, "we like Paul with us. Always." Miss Price looked really surprised at this. And so did Paul. He sat with his porridge spoon aslant, dripping milk down the front of his jersey.
"Paul!" said Miss Price sharply. Paul came to and swallowed the porridge, and Miss Price wiped off the drips.
"Well, children," said Miss Price at the end of breakfast, "you must make your own plans. I have my music lessons, but I shall be free by lunch time. Go to the bathroom, please, Paul." Carey and Charles went out in the garden to wait for Paul.
He emerged with a burst almost immediately, his voice raised in a tuneless rendering of "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." Quickly and silently Charles and Carey took him each by an arm and pulled him through the hedge into the meadow. They walked him out of earshot of the house, and then they sat him down in the long grass, still holding him.
"Paul," said Carey sternly, in a fair imitation of Aunt Beatrice's voice, "it's no good hedging. Charles and I know all." Paul looked bewildered and tried to pull his arms free.
"You and Miss Price," went on Carey, "have been off on the bed. It's no good lying. Charles and I saw." Paul looked unperturbed. "Did you see us go?" he asked.
"Never mind," said Carey darkly.
Paul, sensing their mood, sat still. He just looked bored like a pony tied to a stall.
"Well?" said Carey. "What have you to say?" It seemed Paul had nothing to say. He fidgeted with his feet and did not look even interested.
"Have you been often?" "No," said Paul, making a not very determined effort to pull his wrist free, "we were only trying it." "Is this the first time you've tried it?" "Yes." "Did it work all right?" asked Charles. He sounded more friendly suddenly.
"Yes." Carey let go Paul's wrist. "Where did you go, Paul?" Paul smiled.
"Tell us, Paul," urged Carey. "We're sure to find out." "Guess," said Paul.
"All right. You must answer 'yes' or 'no,' and you can say 'sort of.'" "Was it in the western hemisphere?" asked Charles.
"No," said Paul.
"Was it the eastern hemisphere?" asked Carey.
"No," said Paul.
"Then it wasn't in the world!" exclaimed Charles.
"Yes. It was in the world," said Paul.
"Well, then it must have been in the western or the eastern hemisphere." "No," said Paul. "It wasn't anywhere like that." "He doesn't know what hemisphere means," Charles suggested.
Paul looked stubborn. "Yes, I know what it means." "What does it mean?" "Well-it means- It doesn't mean Blowditch." "Is that where you went?" "Yes." "You only went as far as Blowditch?" "Yes." "Why, you could walk there," exclaimed Charles.
"It was only to see if it worked," explained Paul.
"Did you ask Miss Price if you could try it?" "No. She asked me. She said: 'Let's give it a little twist. I don't suppose it still works.' " "Spells don't wear out," said Carey.
"How do you know?" asked Charles.
"Well, it stands to reason," replied Carey.
They were silent awhile. Then Carey said tolerantly: "I can understand how it happened. But I don't think it's at all fair. And I never have thought it fair that Paul was the only one who could work it." "Well, it was his knob," said Charles. "We mustn't grumble. There are people who would give anything for a magic bed-knob, whoever had to work it." "Yes," agreed Carey, "I know. But, as they've had a turn, I think we ought to have a turn too. Miss Price can do as she likes for herself, but we never said we'd give up magic." "I don't see how we could manage it," said Charles, "not with the bed in Miss Price's room." Carey tossed back her braids. "I shall just go to Miss Price in a straightforward way and ask her right out." Charles, slightly awed, was silent.
"And there's another thing," Carey went on. "Do you remember that when Miss Price gave us the spell, she said that if we turned the knob backwards the bed would take us into the past? Well, I think she ought to let us have one go at the past. After that, we could give it up-for a bit," she added, "though I don't see what all this giving up of magic does for anybody. You'd think it might be used for the defense scheme or something." "Carey!" exclaimed Charles, deeply shocked.
Carey, a little subdued, broke off a stalk of sorrel and chewed it pensively. "I suppose you're right," she admitted after a moment. She had sudden visions of dragons breathing fire and mustard gas and whole armies turning into white mice. It would be terrible, unthinkable, to have one's brother, say, invalided out of the army as a white mouse, kept for the rest of his life in a cage on the drawing room table. And where would you pin the medals on a mouse?
"You see," said Charles, "Miss Price is quite right in some ways. You can overdo things." "I know," Carey admitted. "But I don't see how it would hurt anybody if we just had a little trip into the past." "Well, there's no harm in asking," said Charles.
They cornered Miss Price after supper. She listened to their argument; she saw the justice of what they said; but she threw up her hands and said: "Oh dear, oh dear!" They tried to reassure her; they were very reasonable and very moderate. "Just one more go, Miss Price, and after that we'll give it up. It's a pity to waste the past." "I don't like it," Miss Price kept saying. "I don't like it. If you were stuck or anything, I couldn't get you out. I've burnt the books." "Oh, no-" cried Carey, aghast.
"Yes, yes, I burnt them," cried poor Miss Price. "They were very confidential." "Can't you remember anything by heart?" "Nothing to speak of. One or two little things. . . . Oh dear, this is all my fault. I just wanted to see-out of simple curiosity-if spells wore out. I never dreamed it would start all this up again-" "Please let us try, Miss Price," urged Carey. "Just this once, and we'll never ask again. We did keep our word, and you're not really keeping yours if you don't let us just try the past. We never told anyone about your being a witch, and now, if you won't let us use the spell again anyway, it wouldn't matter if we did tell-" "Carey!" exclaimed Miss Price. She stood up. Her eyes gleamed strangely. Her long thin nose suddenly seemed longer and thinner. Her chin looked sharper. Carey drew away alarmed.