She suddenly felt so tired--perhaps through want of food--that she sat
down on the edge of the bed quite weakly.

"Suppose there was a bright fire in the grate, with lots of little
dancing flames," she murmured. "Suppose there was a comfortable chair
before it--and suppose there was a small table near, with a little
hot--hot supper on it. And suppose"--as she drew the thin coverings
over her--"suppose this was a beautiful soft bed, with fleecy blankets
and large downy pillows. Suppose--suppose--" And her very weariness
was good to her, for her eyes closed and she fell fast asleep.

She did not know how long she slept. But she had been tired enough to
sleep deeply and profoundly--too deeply and soundly to be disturbed by
anything, even by the squeaks and scamperings of Melchisedec's entire
family, if all his sons and daughters had chosen to come out of their
hole to fight and tumble and play.

When she awakened it was rather suddenly, and she did not know that any
particular thing had called her out of her sleep. The truth was,
however, that it was a sound which had called her back--a real
sound--the click of the skylight as it fell in closing after a lithe
white figure which slipped through it and crouched down close by upon
the slates of the roof--just near enough to see what happened in the
attic, but not near enough to be seen.

At first she did not open her eyes. She felt too sleepy and--curiously
enough--too warm and comfortable. She was so warm and comfortable,
indeed, that she did not believe she was really awake. She never was as
warm and cozy as this except in some lovely vision.

"What a nice dream!" she murmured. "I feel quite warm.
I--don't--want--to--wake--up."

Of course it was a dream. She felt as if warm, delightful bedclothes
were heaped upon her. She could actually FEEL blankets, and when she
put out her hand it touched something exactly like a satin-covered
eider-down quilt. She must not awaken from this delight--she must be
quite still and make it last.

But she could not--even though she kept her eyes closed tightly, she
could not. Something was forcing her to awaken--something in the room.
It was a sense of light, and a sound--the sound of a crackling, roaring
little fire.

"Oh, I am awakening," she said mournfully. "I can't help it--I can't."

Her eyes opened in spite of herself. And then she actually smiled--for
what she saw she had never seen in the attic before, and