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Updated: May 5, 2025
"I am aware of it," said the goat-faced stranger, "but I have the permission of the Earl of Yalding to examine the house at my leisure." "Oh!" said Mabel. "I beg your pardon. We all do. We didn't know." "You are relatives of his lordship, I should surmise?" asked the goat-faced. "Not exactly," said Gerald. "Friends".
They reassured her, set the tea, deputed Kathleen to let in Mademoiselle who came home tired and a little sad, it seemed waited for her and Gerald and the cakes, and started off for Yalding Towers. "Picnic parties aren't allowed," said Mabel. "Ours will be," said Gerald briefly. "Now, Eliza, you catch on to Kathleen's arm and I'll walk behind to conceal your shadow.
But I do not think they can have a clew, because, of course, that respected gentleman was the Ugly-Wugly who became real when, in search of a really good hotel, he got into the Hall of Granted Wishes. And if none of this story ever happened, how is it that those four children are such friends with Lord and Lady Yalding, and stay at The Towers almost every holidays?
Her fingers felt it as she spoke; and as she ceased to speak the carved panels slid away, and the blue velvet shelves laden with jewels were disclosed to the unbelieving eyes of Lord Yalding and the lady who was to be his wife. "Jove!" said Lord Yalding. "Misericorde!" said the lady. "But why now?" gasped Mabel. "Why not before?" "I expect it's magic," said Gerald.
The antediluvian animals are set in a beech-wood on a slope at least half a mile across the park from the castle. The grandfather of the present Lord Yalding had them set there in the middle of last century, in the great days of the late Prince Consort, the Exhibition of 1851, Sir Joseph Paxton, and the Crystal Palace.
The French governess, half-doubting, half-hoping, but wholly longing to be near Lord Yalding even if he be as mad as a March hare, and the four children they have collected Mabel by an urgent letter-card posted the day before are going over the dewy grass. The moon has not yet risen, but her light is in the sky mixed with the pink and purple of the sunset.
It was show-day at Yalding Castle, and it seemed good to the children to go and visit Mabel, and, as Gerald put it, to mingle unsuspected with the crowd; to gloat over all the things which they knew and which the crowd didn't know about the castle and the sliding panels, the magic ring and the statues that came alive.
The entreaties were prompted by Gerald's growing certainty that whatever was the matter was somehow the fault of that ring. The tale, as told by Mademoiselle, was certainly an unusual one. Lord Yalding, last night after dinner, had walked in the park "to think of " "Yes, I know," said Gerald; "and he had the ring on. And he saw "
"Don't mention it," said Jimmy kindly. "I thought you'd be pleased and him too." "Perhaps you'll be interested to learn," said Lord Yalding, putting his hands in his pockets and staring down at Jimmy, "that Mr. Jefferson D. Conway was so pleased with your ghost that he got me out of bed at six o clock this morning to talk about it." "Oh, ripping!" said Jimmy. "What did he say?"
"I return all at the hour, and we re-enter together. It is that we must speak each other. It is long time that we have not seen us, me and Lord Yalding!" "So he was Lord Yalding all the time," said Jimmy, breaking a stupefied silence as the white gown and the grey flannels disappeared among the beech trunks. "Landscape painter sort of dodge silly, I call it.
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