She spread out her wings as she spoke to their full extent; they were nearly six feet across, and the deep crimson on the under side was so exquisite, gleaming in the sunlight, that Jimbo ran in and nestled beneath the feathers, tickling his cheeks with the fluffy surface and running his fingers with childish delight along the slender red quills. "You precious child," she said, tenderly folding her wings round him and kissing the top of his head. "Always remember that I really love you; no matter what happens, remember that, and I'll save you." "And we shall escape together?" he asked, submitting for once to the caresses with a good grace. "We shall escape from the Empty House together," she replied evasively. "How far we can go after that depends--on you." "On me?" "If you love me enough--as I love you, Jimbo--we can never separate again, because love ties us together for ever. Only," she added, "it must be mutual." "I love you very much," he said, puzzled a little. "Of course I do." "If you've really forgiven me for being the cause of your coming here," she said, "we can always be together, but----" "I don't remember, but I've forgiven you--that _other you_--long ago," he said simply. "If you hadn't brought me here, I should never have met you." "That's not real forgiveness--quite," she sighed, half to herself. But Jimbo could not follow this sort of conversation for long; he was too anxious to try his wings for one thing. "Is it _very_ difficult to use them?" he asked. "Try," she said. He stood in the centre of the floor and raised them again and again. They swept up easily, meeting over his head, and the air whistled musically through them. Evidently, they had their proper muscles, for it was no great effort, and when he folded them again by his side they fell into natural curves over his arms as if they had been there all his life. The sound of the feathers threshing the air filled him with delight and made him think of the big night-bird that had flown past the window during the night. He told the governess about it, and she burst out laughing. "I was that big bird!" she said. "You!" "I perched on the roof every night to watch over you. I flew down that time because I was afraid you were trying to climb out of the window." This was indeed a proof of devotion, and Jimbo felt that he could never doubt her again; and when she went on to tell him about his wings and how to use them he listened with his very best attention and tried hard to learn and understand. "The great difficulty is that you can't practise properly," she explained. "There's no room in here, and yet you can't get out till you _fly_ out. It's the first swoop that decides all. You have to drop straight out of this window, and if you use the wings properly they will carry you in a single swoop over the wall and right up into the sky." "But if I miss----?"