"
"Yes," said Gerald modestly, "I thought of that."
The day was as bright as yesterday had been, and from the white
marble temple the Italian-looking landscape looked more than ever
like a steel engraving coloured by hand, or an oleographic
imitation of one of Turner's pictures.
When the three children were comfortably settled on the steps that
led up to the white statue, the voice of the fourth child said sadly:
"I'm not ungrateful, hut I'm rather hungry. And you can't be always
taking things for me through your larder window. If you like, I'll go
back and live in the castle. It's supposed to be haunted. I suppose I
could haunt it as well as anyone else. I am a sort of ghost now, you
know. I will if you like."
"Oh no," said Kathleen kindly; "you must stay with us.
"But about food. I'm not ungrateful, really I'm not, but breakfast is
breakfast, and bread's only bread."
"If you could get the ring off, you could go back."
"Yes," said Mabel's voice, "but you see, I can't. I tried again last
night in bed, and again this morning. And it's like stealing, taking
things out of your larder even if it's only bread."
"Yes, it is," said Gerald, who had carried out this bold enterprise.
"Well, now, what we must do is to earn some money."
Jimmy remarked that this was all very well. But Gerald and
Kathleen listened attentively.
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