'Oh, come along, come along, you good old beautiful Phoenix,'

and almost at once there was a rustle of wings down the kitchen
stairs, and the Phoenix sailed in on wide gold wings.

'Where on earth HAVE you been?' asked Anthea. 'I've looked
everywhere for you.'

'Not EVERYWHERE,' replied the bird, 'because you did not look in
the place where I was. Confess that that hallowed spot was
overlooked by you.'

'WHAT hallowed spot?' asked Cyril, a little impatiently, for time
was hastening on, and the wishing carpet still idle.

'The spot,' said the Phoenix, 'which I hallowed by my golden
presence was the Lutron.'

'The WHAT?'

'The bath--the place of washing.'

'I'm sure you weren't,' said Jane. 'I looked there three times and
moved all the towels.'

'I was concealed,' said the Phoenix, 'on the summit of a metal
column--enchanted, I should judge, for it felt warm to my golden
toes, as though the glorious sun of the desert shone ever upon it.'

'Oh, you mean the cylinder,' said Cyril: 'it HAS rather a