Jem did as she told her, and found that it was easy enough. In an instant she had passed through the opening, the white brick had gone back to its place, and she was standing by Flora's side in a large room--the nicest room she had ever seen. It was big and lofty and light, and there were all kinds of delightful things in it--books and flowers and playthings and pictures, and in one corner a great cage full of lovebirds. "Have I ever seen it before?" asked Jem, glancing slowly round. "Yes," said Flora; "you saw it last night--in your mind. Don't you remember it?" Jem shook her head. "I feel as if I did, but--" "Why," said Flora, laughing, "it's my room, the one you read about last night." "So it is," said Jem. "But how did you come here?" "I can't tell you that; I myself don't know. But I am here, and so"--rather mysteriously--"are a great many other things." "Are they?" said Jem, very much interested. "What things? Burned things? I was just wondering--" "Not only burned things," said Flora, nodding. "Just come with me and I'll show you something." She led the way out of the room and down a little passage with several doors in each side of it, and she opened one door and showed Jem what was on the other side of it. That was a room, too, and this time it was funny as well as pretty. Both floor and walls were padded with rose color, and the floor was strewn with toys. There were big soft balls, rattles, horses, woolly dogs, and a doll or so; there was one low cushioned chair and a low table. "You can come in," said a shrill little voice behind the door, "only mind you don't tread on things." "What a funny little voice!" said Jem, but she had no sooner said it than she jumped back. The owner of the voice, who had just come forward, was no other than Baby. "Why," exclaimed Jem, beginning to feel frightened, "I left you fast asleep in your crib." "Did you?" said Baby, somewhat scornfully. "That's just the way with you grown-up people. You think you know everything, and yet you haven't discretion enough to know when a pin is sticking into one. You'd know soon enough if you had one sticking into your own back." "But I'm not grown up," stammered Jem; "and when you are at home you can neither walk nor talk. You're not six months old." "Well, miss," retorted Baby, whose wrongs seemed to have soured her disposition somewhat, "you have no need to throw that in my teeth; you were not six months old, either, when you were my age." Jem could not help laughing. "You haven't got any teeth," she said. "Haven't I?" said Baby, and she displayed two beautiful rows with some haughtiness of manner. "When I am up here," she said, "I am supplied with the modern conveniences, and that's why I never complain. Do I ever cry when I am asleep? It's not falling asleep I object to, it's falling awake." "Wait a minute," said Jem. "Are you asleep now?"