"Mother! father! Oh, come to me! Come!"

"Fanny, my child!" was the mother's instant response, and the yet
half-dreaming girl fell forward into her arms, which were closed
tightly around her. What a strong thrill of terror was in every part
of her frame!

"Dear Fanny! What ails you? Don't tremble so! You are safe in my
arms. There, love, nothing shall harm you."

"Oh, mother! dear mother! is it you?" half sobbed the not yet
fully-awakened girl.

"Yes, love. You are safe with your mother. But what have you been
dreaming about?"

"Dreaming!" Fanny raised herself from her mother's bosom, and looked
at her with a bewildered air.

"Yes, dear--dreaming. This is your own room, and you are on your own
bed. You have only been frightened by a fearful dream."

"Only a dream! How thankful I am! Oh! it was terrible!"

"What was it about, daughter?" asked Mrs. Markland.

Fanny, whose mind was getting clearer and calmer, did not at once
reply.

"You mentioned the name of Mr. Lyon," said the mother.

"Did I?" Fanny's voice expressed surprise.

"Yes. Was it of him that you were dreaming?"

"I saw him in my dream," was answered.

"Why were you afraid of him?"

"It was a very strange dream, mother--very strange," said Fanny,
evidently not speaking from a free choice.

"I thought I was in our garden among the flowers. And as I stood
there, Mr. Lyon came in through the gate and walked up to me. He
looked just as he did when he was here; only it seemed that about
his face and form there was even a manlier beauty. Taking my hand,
he led me to one of the garden chairs, and we sat down side by side.
And now I began to see a change in him. His eyes, that were fixed
upon mine, grew brighter and deeper, until it seemed as if I could
look far down into their burning depths. His breath came hot upon my
face. Suddenly, he threw an arm around me, and then I saw myself in
the strong folds of a great serpent! I screamed for help, and next
found myself in your arms. Oh! it was a strange and a fearful
dream!"

"And it may not be all a dream, Fanny," said Mrs. Markland, in a
very impressive voice.

"Not all a dream, mother!" Fanny seemed startled at the words.

"No, dear. Dreams are often merely fantastic. But there come visions
in sleep, sometimes, that are permitted as warnings, and truly
represent things existing in real life."

"I do not understand you, mother."

"There is in the human mind a quality represented by the serp