“Well,” she said, “this is funny.”

But the next thing that happened was funnier still.  She found that, without thinking what she was doing, she was knocking on the white brick with her knackles, as if it was a door and she expected somebody to open it.  The next minute she heard footsteps, and then a sound, as if some one was drawing back a little bolt.

“It is a door,” said Jem, “and somebody is going to open it.”

The white brick moved a little, and some more mortar and soot fell; then the brick moved a little more, and then it slid aside and left an open space.

“It’s a room!” cried Jem, “There’s a room behind it!”

And so there was, and before the open space stood a pretty little girl, with long lovely hair and a fringe on her forehead.  Jem clasped her hands in amazement.  It was Flora herself, as she looked in the picture, and Flora stood laughing and nodding.

“Come in,” she said.  “I thought it was you.”

“But how can I come in through such a little place?” asked Jem.

“Oh, that is easy enough,” said Flora.  “Here, give me your hand.”

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.