'Ah,' said he, 'when you call me that, I know I'm dreaming. My little sister--I dream of her sometimes. But it's not real like this. Do you remember the day I dreamed you brought me the Babylonish ring?'
'We remember it all,' said Robert. 'Did you leave Fitzroy Street because you were too rich for it?'
'Oh, no!' he said reproachfully. 'You know I should never have done such a thing as that. Of course, I left when your old Nurse died and--what's the matter!'
'Old Nurse DEAD?' said Anthea. 'Oh, NO!'
'Yes, yes, it's the common lot. It's a long time ago now.'
Jane held up the Amulet in a hand that twittered.
'Come!' she cried, 'oh, come home! She may be dead before we get there, and then we can't give it to her. Oh, come!'
'Ah, don't let the dream end now!' pleaded the learned gentleman.
'It must,' said Anthea firmly, and kissed him again.
'When it comes to people dying,' said Robert, 'good-bye! I'm so glad you're rich and famous and happy.'
'DO come!' cried Jane, stamping in her agony of impatience. And they went. Old Nurse brought in tea almost as soon as they were back in Fitzroy Street. As she came in with the tray, the girls rushed at her and nearly upset her and it.
'Don't die!' cried Jane, 'oh, don't!' and Anthea cried, 'Dear, ducky, darling old Nurse, don't die!'
'Lord, love you!' said Nurse, 'I'm not agoin' to die yet a while, please Heaven! Whatever on earth's the matter with the chicks?'
'Nothing. Only don't!'
She put the tray down and hugged the girls in turn. The boys thumped her on the back with heartfelt affection.
'I'm as well as ever I was in my life,' she said. 'What nonsense about dying! You've been a sitting too long in the dusk, that's what it is. Regular blind man's holiday. Leave go of me, while I light the gas.'
The yellow light illuminated four pale faces. 'We do love you so,' Anthea went on, 'and we've made you a picture to show you how we love you. Get it out, Squirrel.'
The glazed testimonial was dragged out from under the sofa and displayed.
'The glue's not dry yet,' said Cyril, 'look out!'
'What a beauty!' cried old Nurse. 'Well, I never! And your pictures and the beautiful writing and all. Well, I always did say your hearts was in the right place, if a bit careless at times. Well! I never did! I don't know as I was ever pleased better in my life.'
She hugged them all, one after the other. And the boys did not mind it, somehow, that day.
'How is it we can remember all about the future, NOW?' Anthea woke the Psammead with laborious gentleness to put the question.
'How is it we can remember what we saw in the future, and yet, when we WERE in the future, we could not remember the bit of the future that was past then, the time of finding the Amulet?'
'Why, what a silly question!' said the Psammead, 'of course you cannot remember what hasn't happened yet.'
'But the FUTURE hasn't happened yet,' Anthea persisted, 'and we remember that all right.'
'Oh, that isn't what's happened, my good child,' said the Psammead, rather crossly, 'that's prophetic vision. And you remember dreams, don't you? So why not visions? You never do seem to understand the simplest thing.'
It went to sand again at once.
Anthea crept down in her nightgown to give one last kiss to old Nurse, and one last look at the beautiful testimonial hanging, by its tapes, its glue now firmly set, in glazed glory on the wall of the kitchen.
'Good-night, bless your loving heart,' said old Nurse, 'if only you don't catch your deather-cold!'
