“I’m sorry she sent you away, William,” he said.  “It must have been interesting to watch—­most interesting to watch.  I’d much rather have watched than—­but there, it’s very kind of her to take such an interest in me. Most kind.  But I—­however, she’s very kind, very kind.  She very kindly presented me with the costume.  Hardly suitable, perhaps, but very kind of her.  And, of course, there may be something in it.  One never knows.  I may have been Julius Caesar, but I hardly think—­however, one must keep an open mind.  Do you know any Latin, William?”

“Jus’ a bit,” said William, guardedly.  “I’ve learnt a lot, but I don’t know much.”

“Say some to me.  It might convey something to me.  One never knows.  She seems so sure.  Talk Latin to me, William.”

“Hic, haec, hoc,” said William obligingly.

Julius Caesar’s reincarnation shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I’m afraid it doesn’t seem to mean anything to me.”

“Hunc, hanc, hoc,” went on William monotonously.

“I’m afraid it’s no good,” said Mr. Lambkin.  “I’m afraid it proves that I’m not—­still one may not retain a knowledge of one’s former tongue.  One must keep an open mind.  Of course, I’d prefer not to—­but one must be fair.  And she’s kind, very kind.”

Shaking his head sadly, the little man entered the station.

That evening William heard his father say to his mother: 

“She came down to meet him at the station to-night.  I’m afraid his doom is sealed.  He’s no power of resistance, and she’s got her eye on him.”

“Who’s got her eye on him?” said William with interest.

“Be quiet!” said his father with the brusqueness of the male parent.

But William began to see how things stood.  And William liked Mr. Lambkin.

One evening he saw from his window Mr. Gregorius Lambkin walking with Miss Gregoria Mush in Miss Gregoria Mush’s garden.  Mr. Gregorius Lambkin did not look happy.

William crept down to the hole in the fence and applied his ear to it.

They were sitting on a seat quite close to his hole.

“Gregorius,” the President of the Society of Ancient Souls was saying, “when I found that our names were the same I knew that our destinies were interwoven.”

“Yes,” murmured Mr. Lambkin.  “It’s so kind of you, so kind.  But—­I’m afraid I’m overstaying my welcome.  I must——­”

“No.  I must say what is in my heart, Gregorius.  You live on the Past, I live in the Past.  We have a common mission—­the mission of bringing to the thoughtless and uninitiated the memory of their former lives.  Gregorius, our work would be more valuable if we could do it together, if the common destiny that has united our nomenclatures could unite also our lives.”

“It’s so kind of you,” murmured the writhing victim, “so kind.  I am so unfit, I——­”