“But which happened _first_?” said Sylvie, looking very much puzzled. The Professor examined the papers carefully. “They are not _dated_, I find,” he said with a slightly dejected air: “so I fear I ca’n’t tell you. But they _both_ happened: there’s no doubt of _that_. The _Medicine’s_ the great thing, you know. The _Diseases_ are much less important. You can keep a _Medicine_, for years and years: but nobody ever wants to keep a _Disease_! By the way, come and look at the platform. The Gardener asked me to come and see if it would do. We may as well go before it gets dark.” “We’d like to, very much!” Sylvie replied. “Come, Bruno, put on your hat. Don’t keep the dear Professor waiting!” “Ca’n’t find my hat!” the little fellow sadly replied. “I were rolling it about. And it’s rolled itself away!” “Maybe it’s rolled in _there_,” Sylvie suggested, pointing to a dark recess, the door of which stood half open: and Bruno ran in to look. After a minute he came slowly out again, looking very grave, and carefully shut the cupboard-door after him. “It aren’t in there,” he said, with such unusual solemnity, that Sylvie’s curiosity was roused. “What _is_ in there, Bruno?” “There’s cobwebs—and two spiders—” Bruno thoughtfully replied, checking off the catalogue on his fingers, “—and the cover of a picture-book—and a tortoise—and a dish of nuts—and an old man.” “An old man!” cried the Professor, trotting across the room in great excitement. “Why, it must be the Other Professor, that’s been lost for ever so long!” [Illustration: THE OTHER PROFESSOR FOUND] He opened the door of the cupboard wide: and there he was, the Other Professor, sitting in a chair, with a book on his knee, and in the act of helping himself to a nut from a dish, which he had taken down off a shelf just within his reach. He looked round at us, but said nothing till he had cracked and eaten the nut. Then he asked the old question. “Is the Lecture all ready?” “It’ll begin in an hour,” the Professor said, evading the question. “First, we must have something to surprise the Empress. And then comes the Banquet——” “The Banquet!” cried the Other Professor, springing up, and filling the room with a cloud of dust. “Then I’d better go and—and brush myself a little. What a state I’m in!” “He _does_ want brushing!” the Professor said, with a critical air, “Here’s your hat, little man! I had put it on by mistake. I’d quite forgotten I had _one_ on, already. Let’s go and look at the platform.” “And there’s that nice old Gardener singing still!” Bruno exclaimed in delight, as we went out into the garden. “I do believe he’s been singing that very song ever since we went away!” “Why, of course he has!” replied the Professor. “It wouldn’t be the thing to leave off, you know.”