"It was I who burnt your house down, Richard," said Miss Ford. "But it doesn't matter. It wasn't a real house." "You are right," said Richard. "To such as you, dear Meta, it was not a real house. It was the House of Living Alone, and only to people who live alone was it real. It is dark and deserted now, and levelled with the cold ground; it is as though it were a tent, being moved from its position to follow the fortunes of those dwellers alone who wander continually in silence up and down the world...." He looked at Sarah Brown. "Talking of wandering," said Miss Ford. "We are all going to America, Richard. Can you get us passports?" "Certainly," agreed Richard. "To America, eh? A nice little trip for you all. America, you know, would be entirely magic, if it weren't for the Americans...." "I have quite a circle of friends in New York," said Miss Ford, who seemed to be recovering from her nerve-storm. "Beware," said Richard, "lest you all forget the magic of to-night, and change from adventurers to tourists." "I am not going to America," said Lady Arabel. "I am going home. I never heard such dretful nonsense. I was only in fun when I agreed to the plan." "I never agreed to the plan at all," said Mr. Frere. "I shall be truly thankful to get to bed, and wake up to-morrow sober. I will never go out to tea in Kensington again if this is the result." "I am going to America," said Mr. Tovey, fixing his innocent eyes, obscured by hair, upon Miss Ford. "I am going to America," echoed the unseen Mayor from an unexpected direction. Nobody had yet dared to tell him of the misfortune that had overtaken him. "I'll give up this Mayor job to-morrer. Catch me stayin' be'ind if--oh, by the way, that reminds me----" "I didn't need reminding," interrupted Sarah Brown. "It seems to me that everybody has forgotten why they came here. Please, Richard, do you know of a spell to find a missing person?" "Yes, several," answered Richard, who was always as eager as a travelling salesman to recommend his wares. "There is an awfully ingenious little spell I can show you, if you happen to have a telephone book and a compass and a toad's heart and a hair from a black goat's beard about you. Or again, if you stand on a sea-beach at low tide on Christmas night with the moon at your back and a wax candle in your left hand, and write upon the sand the name--by the way, who is it you want to find?" "The witch," answered Sarah Brown. Richard's face fell. "Oh, only the witch?" he said. "I can tell you where she is without any spell at all. She's with my True Love at Higgins Farm, helping--oh, by the way, mother, I forgot to tell you. You are a grandmother."