knew she never
should see.

"Oh, I HAVEN'T awakened," she whispered, daring to rise on her elbow
and look all about her. "I am dreaming yet." She knew it MUST be a
dream, for if she were awake such things could not--could not be.

Do you wonder that she felt sure she had not come back to earth? This
is what she saw. In the grate there was a glowing, blazing fire; on
the hob was a little brass kettle hissing and boiling; spread upon the
floor was a thick, warm crimson rug; before the fire a folding-chair,
unfolded, and with cushions on it; by the chair a small folding-table,
unfolded, covered with a white cloth, and upon it spread small covered
dishes, a cup, a saucer, a teapot; on the bed were new warm coverings
and a satin-covered down quilt; at the foot a curious wadded silk robe,
a pair of quilted slippers, and some books. The room of her dream
seemed changed into fairyland--and it was flooded with warm light, for
a bright lamp stood on the table covered with a rosy shade.

She sat up, resting on her elbow, and her breathing came short and fast.

"It does not--melt away," she panted. "Oh, I never had such a dream
before." She scarcely dared to stir; but at last she pushed the
bedclothes aside, and put her feet on the floor with a rapturous smile.

"I am dreaming--I am getting out of bed," she heard her own voice say;
and then, as she stood up in the midst of it all, turning slowly from
side to side--"I am dreaming it stays--real! I'm dreaming it FEELS
real. It's bewitched--or I'm bewitched. I only THINK I see it all."
Her words began to hurry themselves. "If I can only keep on thinking
it," she cried, "I don't care! I don't care!"

She stood panting a moment longer, and then cried out again.

"Oh, it isn't true!" she said. "It CAN'T be true! But oh, how true it
seems!"

The blazing fire drew her to it, and she knelt down and held out her
hands close to it--so close that the heat made her start back.

"A fire I only dreamed wouldn't be HOT," she cried.

She sprang up, touched the table, the dishes, the rug; she went to the
bed and touched the blankets. She took up the soft wadded
dressing-gown, and suddenly clutched it to her breast and held it to
her cheek.

"It's warm. It's soft!" she almost sobbed. "It's real. It must be!"

She threw it over her shoulders, and put her feet into the slippers.

"They are real, too. It's all real!" she cried. "I am NOT--I am NOT
dreaming!"

She almost