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“Eh?” said Old Man Smith. “A sample of her mind?” He looked jerky. He growled in his throat. “A–hem—-A–hem,” he said. He closed his eyes. I thought he’d decided to die. I screamed for Carol. He came running. He’d only been bee-stung twice. Old Man Smith opened his eyes. His voice sounded queer. “Where do they think she lost her mind?” he whispered.

“In Europe,” I said. “Maybe in a train! Maybe on a boat! They don’t know! She can’t remember anything about it.”

“U–m–m,” said Old Man Smith. He looked at Young Annie Halliway. “And where do you think you lost it?” he said.

Young Annie Halliway seemed very much pleased to be asked. She laughed right out.

“In a March wind!” she said.

“Eh?” said Old Man Smith. He turned to me again. “What did you say her name was?” he asked.

I felt a little cross.

“Halliway!” I said. “Halliway–Halliway–Halliway! They live in the big house out by the Chestnut Trees! They only come here in the Summers! Except now! The Doctors say it’s Mysteria!”

“The Doctors say what is Mysteria?” said Old Man Smith.

“What Annie’s got!” I explained. “What made her lose her mind! Mysteria is what they call it.”

“U–m–m,” said Old Man Smith. He reached way down into his pocket. He pulled out a box. He opened the box. It was full of pieces of colored glass! And of china! He juggled them in his hands. They looked gay. Red they were! And green! And white! And yellow! And blue! He snatched out all the blue ones and hid ’em quick in his pocket. “She seems sort of partial to blue,” he said.

There was one funny big piece of glass that was awful shiny. When he held it up to the light it glinted and glowed all sorts of colors. It made your eyes feel very calm.

Annie Halliway reached out her hand for it. She didn’t say a word. She just stared at it with her hand all reached out.

But Old Man Smith didn’t give it to her. He just sat and stared at her eyes.

Her eyes never moved from the shining bit of glass. They looked awful funny. Bigger and bigger they got! And rounder and rounder! And stiller and stiller!

It was like a puppy-dog pointing a little bird in the grass. It made you feel queer. It made you feel all sort of hollow inside. It made your legs wobble.

Carol’s mouth was wide open.

So was Old Man Smith’s.

Old Man Smith reached out suddenly and put the shining bit of glass right into Annie Halliway’s hand. It fell through her fingers. But her hand stayed just where it was, reaching out into the air.

“Put down your arm!” said Old Man Smith.

Annie Halliway put it down. Her eyes were still staring very wide.

“Look!” said Old Man Smith. “Look!” He dropped several pieces of colored glass china into her lap.

She chose the handle of a red tea cup and a little chunk of yellow crockery. She stared and stared at them. But all the time it was as though her eyes didn’t see them. All the time it was as though she was looking at something very far away. Then all of a sudden she began to jingle them together in her hand,–the little piece of red china and the chunk of yellow bowl! And swing her shoulders! And stamp her foot! It looked like dancing. It sounded like clappers.

“Oh, Ho! This is Spain!” she laughed.

Old Man Smith snatched all the blue pieces of china and glass out of his pocket again and tossed them into her lap. He looked sort of mad.

“Spain?” he said. “Spain? What in the Old Harry has a handful of glass and china got to do with Spain?”

“Harry?” said Annie Halliway. “Old–Harry?” Her eyes looked wider and blinder every minute. It was as though everything in her was wide awake except the thing she was thinking about. “Har–ry?” she puzzled. “Harry?” she dropped the red and yellow china from her hand and picked up a piece of blue glass and offered it to Old Man Smith. “Why, that is Harry!” she said. She reached for the pig-tail that had the blue Larkspur braided into it. She pointed to the pig-tail that had the blue fan braided into it. “Why, that is Harry!” she said. She made a little sob in her throat.