If I had a witch with a wand that's what I'd wish for supper to-night.

Wouldn't you, sister ?" Joyce turned away from the window and lifted the lid from the kettle in which the stew was bubbling.

"I don't know," she said, gazing dreamily into the depths of the savoury stew.

"If I had that old witch with a wand that you are always talking about, I'd not stop simply with something to eat.

I would wish myself back in Tours, with Madame sweeping down to dinner in her red velvet gown, and the candle-light shining on the cut glass and silver.