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“Just think of it!” she exclaimed after a moment’s silence. “This marsh, and that forest to the north, and all the open land as far as we can see in every direction, is now covered with streets and shops, with churches and schools and railway stations, and is the dwelling-place of millions of people.”

“It’s almost as wonderful as this magic way of seeing it as it used to be!” declared Betty. “Tell me again how far back in the Past we are?”

“All this is one thousand five hundred years ago,” said Godmother softly.

The fisherman had tied up his boat to a stake driven into the shore of the island, where later the great Cathedral of Westminster was to stand. The sun was setting, the water was a sheet of gold and crimson, and above the island a flight of birds rose suddenly with shrill cries.... The next second they stood in the white-panelled parlour.

“Oh!” cried Betty, rubbing her eyes. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Why!” she stammered, “it was three o’clock the last time I saw it, and it’s still three. It must have stopped!”