“What’s that?” she asked the Teacup.

“Why, dear, that comes from the Smiles.  They live just over the way, you know.  We’ll go by and see them on our way home.”

Here was good news, indeed!  Sara had never felt more relieved.  But at that very moment she drew back; for she had seen several disheveled, cross, black-browed children peering at her out of a sort of cave in the rock.  Behind them was a very ill-natured-looking old man.

“Those are the Frowns,” said the Teacup, holding Sara’s hand reassuringly.  “They live in that cave with their step-father, Old Man Scowl.  Just come on by, as if you didn’t notice them.  But remember how they look.  And listen to those sighs!”

So that was the doleful noise she had been hearing, up in the little pine-trees?  Sara looked up, and for a minute could see them quite distinctly—­little wispy, gray creatures, blowing about in the wind.  They were better than the Frowns and the Sobs, she decided,—­but dear me!  Why should anybody be so dismal?

They had now followed the windings of the little Vale till they came to a great wall of rock that rose across it.  In the rock was an opening closed by a sagging, worm-eaten door, and in front of the door hung a rusty black curtain.

“Children don’t go in there, dear,” said the Teacup, as Sara stood gazing at it, fascinated.  But indeed she had no wish to go in; and it was with a skip of joy that she heard the First Gunkus say, “Time’s up, Miss!”

At that word, back they all went scampering through the Vale, till they came to a bridge, which was made of another rainbow.  On this bridge they crossed the stream, and found themselves at the entrance of a little opening between the hills that shut in the Vale.  The sunshine streamed through it, and looking down it Sara could see that it opened into a meadow full of daffodils and buttercups and black-eyed Susans.  There seemed to be children playing in it, and a few lambs; and down the path toward it waddled a long line of snowy geese.  Altogether, it seemed to Sara she had never beheld so peaceful and ravishing a scene.

“This way out,” said the First Gunkus, touching Sara’s arm, and pointing up to a signpost, marked “Exit,” beside the path.  Drops of water, like tears, dripped continually from this sign; but the sunshine falling upon them from beyond the valley made them look like jewels.

The Teacup had told Sara that the Smiles lived in a peaceful village just beyond the valley; so she knew that the children playing among the flowers were their children.  She would have been glad to stop and join in the gay, fairy-like games the little Smiles were playing; but she could see that the Teacup was getting a little nervous, and anxious to be back in the Garden.  And, since the kind little Teacup had broken into her regular habits, and braved so many dangers and discomforts just to keep her company through the dismal Vale, she felt that she ought to be very considerate.  So she followed her down the path, which was now turning into a little lane, though she walked backward part of the way, with her eyes on the children and the lambs.