The coronation was an occasion of unexampled splendour. There was a banquet (of course) and fireworks, and all the guns fired salutes and the soldiers presented arms, and the ladies presented bouquets. And at the end Mr. Noah, with a few well-chosen words which brought tears to all eyes, placed the gold crown of Polistarchia upon the brow of Philip, where its diamonds and rubies shone dazzlingly. There was an extra crown for Lucy, made of silver and pearls and pale silvery moonstones. You have no idea how the Polistarchians shouted. 'And now,' said Mr. Noah when it was all over, 'I regret to inform you that we must part. Polistarchia is a Republic, and of course in a republic kings and queens are not permitted to exist. Partings are painful things. And you had better go at once.' He was plainly very much upset. 'This is very sudden,' said Philip. And Lucy said, 'I do think it's silly. How shall we get home? All in a hurry, like this?' 'How did you get here?' 'By building a house and getting into it.' 'Then build your own house. Oh, we have models of all the houses you were ever in. The pieces are all numbered. You only have to put them together.' He led them to a large room behind the hall of Public Amusements and took down from a shelf a stout box labelled 'The Grange.' On another box Philip saw 'Laburnum Cottage.' Mr. Noah, kneeling on his yellow mat, tumbled the contents of the box out on the floor, and Philip and Lucy set to work to build a house with the exquisitely finished little blocks and stones and beams and windows and chimneys. 'I cannot bear to see you go,' said Mr. Noah. 'Good-bye, good-bye. Remember me sometimes!' 'We shall never forget you,' said the children, jumping up hugging him. 'Good-bye!' said the parrot who had followed them in. 'Good-bye, good-bye!' said everybody. 'I wish the _Lightning Loose_ was not lost,' Philip even at this parting moment remembered to say. 'She isn't,' said Mr. Noah. 'She flew back to the island directly you left her. Sails are called wings, are they not? White wings that never grow weary, you know. Relieved of your weight, the faithful yacht flew home like any pigeon.' 'Hooray!' said Philip. 'I couldn't bear to think of her rotting away in a cavern.' 'I wish Max and Brenda had come to say good-bye,' said Lucy. 'It is not needed,' said Mr. Noah mysteriously. And then everybody said good-bye again, and Mr. Noah rolled up his yellow mat, put it under his arm again, and went--for ever. The children built the Grange, and when the beautiful little model of that house was there before them, perfect, they stood still a moment, looking at it.