"Sky's full of stars," said Thomas.

"Do you know what I wished?"

"Do I?"

"Don't you?"

He looked at her in silence; awkwardly, then, she drew him down, until
her lips brushed his cheek.

"Look at Elsie," she murmured. "Did you ever?"

But Thomas would not look at Elsie; not until Anna had told him her
wish. "Wish I may, wish I might . . ."

"Have the wish . . ."

But she would only whisper it in his ear.

Miles away, in Mrs. Wicket's cottage, Mr. Jeminy sat dreaming, and
rocking up and down. He had come to keep an eye on Juliet, so that
Mrs. Wicket could sit with Mrs. Tomkins, who was feeling poorly. While
Juliet, at his feet, played with her dolls, Mr. Jeminy gave himself up
to reflection. He thought: "The little insects which run about my
garden paths at home, and eat what I had intended for myself, are not
more lonely than I am. For here, within the walls of my mind, there is
only myself. And you, Anna Barly, you cannot give poor Thomas Frye
what he wishes. Do not deceive yourself; when you are gone, he will be