As Kitty darted out of the door she could see the old woman going on with her burden of kicking children tucked under each arm. It was by no means easy to follow her tall, bony, wiry figure, for she went at a great pace, as though she had a very important duty to do, and meant to do it. The children might kick their shoes off, but on she went. She was never very distinct, yet she never entirely vanished. The road was long and straight; over it hung a mist that seemed to be getting deeper and thicker. Kitty ran along, her eyes fixed upon the old woman’s back; but she stalked on so fast there was no catching her up. At once she vanished. The country around was gray and dreary, not a tree, not a house anywhere, nothing but a gray marshy-looking 117plain. A little stream gurgled along, not with a happy murmur as if it were telling joyous secrets to itself; but glug—glug, as if it were sobbing in the dimness. Kitty jumped over the stream and cleared it at a leap. A few frogs croaked. What with the “croak—croak” of the frogs, and the sob—sob of the water, it was quite enough to make any one weep.

Kitty had been running so fast that she could not stop herself, or perhaps she would not have been in such a hurry to cross that doleful stream.

No sooner she had bounded over to the other side than a grim woman stood before her. She appeared so suddenly that Kitty gave a start and stopped running. Was it a real woman? Was it the fog that had taken this shape? Kitty could see distinctly a face peering out of the mist, surrounded by gray hair and a high mob-cap. Perhaps this was owing to her attention being fixed upon the large pair of spectacles astride the hooked nose.

In all her life Kitty had never seen such 118spectacles. They shone with extraordinary effect through the dimness, as if they focused all the light of the place, and it was impossible to see the old woman’s eyes behind them. No, never had Kitty seen anything so piercing, so searching as those spectacles! When they fixed their gaze upon her she had an uncomfortable feeling that she was transparent like the glass jars in the chemist’s shop, and that the eyes 119behind the spectacles were seeing her through and through, right to the other side of her.

“Who are you?” asked the mouth belonging to the spectacles, in a business-like tone. “I hate wasting time asking questions. My spectacles usually spare me that trouble. But I can’t make you out. Who brought you here?”

“Nobody brought me here—that is, nobody except myself,” explained Kitty, who felt impelled to be very accurate under the inspection of those shining glassy eyes.

“Humph! Now that you have brought yourself here, what punishment have you come for?”

“Indeed,” replied Kitty eagerly, “I do not want any punishment—on no account.”

“Not want a punishment, and yet you come to Punishment Land!” repeated the old woman, with a smile curling up the corners of her lips. It was not a pleasant smile. It made Kitty feel a little creepy. “You might as well say,” continued the mouth belonging to the spectacles, “that you knock at a doctor’s door, and don’t want medicine.”

“Perhaps I had better go back,” said Kitty 120hurriedly, for she did not like the tone of the conversation.

She looked round, but she perceived that the fog had risen and formed thick walls all round the place. She was in a prison of fog.

“But you see you can’t go back,” remarked the old woman. “Here you are, and here you must stay. May I ask,” she continued, fixing the full glare of her glasses upon Kitty, “if you did not come to be punished, what did you come for? Come, you had better have a whipping; it will do you good anyhow.”

“I came,” said Kitty, ignoring the last suggestion, and feeling ashamed of the reason she was going to give, “I came to see the naughtiest child, and to see how it was punished.”

The old woman smiled sourly. It was certainly a most unpleasant smile. It curled up and up, until it seemed to curl up into her ears. Kitty felt a cold shiver go down her back.

“You’re all right for that,” answered the old woman cheerily; “walk on; you’ll find the naughtiest child here.”

121She disappeared as she said this; but the next moment she popped her head out of the fog again. “Good-by, Miss Curiosity. I hope you’ll enjoy what you’re going to see. Curious little girls don’t always enjoy what they find out.”

Her spectacles flashed as if they were laughing, and once more she disappeared.

“Miss Curiosity indeed!” said Kitty, tossing back her head.

She walked along with her cheeks on fire. Perhaps the mist had cleared away, or her eyes were growing accustomed to the grayness, for she could see about her. She was in a wild, flat field, utterly lonely and loveless, without a blade of grass or a flower, nothing but thistles and thorns. It stretched far away, solitary and pathless.

“I wish I had not come,” muttered Kitty, feeling frightened at the solitude. Then she thought she would go back to the old woman with the spectacles. She was not pleasant, but she was company. No glimpse of the old woman could she catch. She was alone in the 122lonely plain. Alone! and yet Kitty fancied some one was near her—some one quite near, that she could not see or hear. But who was there behind the fog?

“Why did I come? Oh! why did I come?” she asked herself, trying to remember why she had set out on this foolish quest. “I am curious! oh! I am curious!”

The tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks when she said this, with a sudden feeling of humiliation in her little heart. As she stood there crying and looking about her, not knowing what to do, she saw some one coming toward her. A lady all dressed in white, whose pure robe trailed on the ground. For a moment Kitty’s heart gave a great bound, for she thought it was her mother. Then she saw the lady was a stranger; that she had a beautiful face, sad and majestic.

As Kitty wondered who she was, the stranger drew near. “Who are you? Why have you come to this sad place?” she said, looking at Kitty with eyes so tender and penetrating that Kitty felt as if their light were sinking into 123her little heart, reading all its secrets. The pale lady could see as deep as the old woman with the flashing spectacles.

“I came,” answered Kitty, hanging her head, “because I wanted to see the naughtiest child.”

“The naughtiest child! That was a dreadful wish!” said the fair lady, and she sighed.

It seemed to Kitty that the sigh was repeated all around 124and about her, as if a thousand sighs caught it up and echoed it behind the mist.

“Come,” said the white lady, “you shall have your wish.”

She led the way and Kitty followed; and it seemed to Kitty, as her guide’s fair robes trailed on the barren loveless ground that a track of flowers bloomed for a moment as she passed, and that fruit appeared among the thorns and brambles.

Kitty wondered more and more who this pale lady could be.

“What is your name?” she asked at last looking up into her face.

“My name is Love,” the pale lady replied.

“Love!” repeated Kitty in the greatest astonishment. “Love in Punishment Land, where there are whippings and puttings to bed!”

The pale lady smiled; her eyes were like the stars that keep their patient watch at night over the earth.

“They are not children whipped and put to bed early, and kept at lessons, that I shall show 125you. You have a little soul.” She laid her gentle hand on Kitty’s shoulder. “Every child has a little soul, and here you will see what happens to that soul when it grows sinful. Look yonder.” She pointed to the wall of fog. “There the souls will look like bodies, and you will see.”