enough to show that the grass
was green; and Diamond stood alone in the strange night, which looked
half solid all about him. He began to wonder whether he was in a dream
or not. It was important to determine this; "for," thought Diamond, "if
I am in a dream, I am safe in my bed, and I needn't cry. But if I'm not
in a dream, I'm out here, and perhaps I had better cry, or, at least,
I'm not sure whether I can help it." He came to the conclusion, however,
that, whether he was in a dream or not, there could be no harm in not
crying for a little while longer: he could begin whenever he liked.

The back of Mr. Coleman's house was to the lawn, and one of the
drawing-room windows looked out upon it. The ladies had not gone to bed;
for the light was still shining in that window. But they had no idea
that a little boy was standing on the lawn in his night-gown, or they
would have run out in a moment. And as long as he saw that light,
Diamond could not feel quite lonely. He stood staring, not at the great
warrior Orion in the sky, nor yet at the disconsolate, neglected moon
going down in the west, but at the drawing-room window with the light
shining through its green curtains. He had been in that room once or
twice that he could remember at Christmas times; for the Colemans were
kind people, though they did not care much about children.

All at once the light went nearly out: he could only see a glimmer of
the shape of the window. Then, indeed, he felt that he was left alone.
It was so dreadful to be out in the night after everybody was gone
to bed! That was more than he could bear. He burst out crying in good
earnest, beginning with a wail like that of the wind when it is waking
up.

Perhaps you think this was very foolish; for could he not go home to his
own bed again when he liked? Yes; but it looked dreadful to him to creep
up that stair again and lie down in his bed again, and know that North
Wind's window was open beside him, and she gone, and he might never see
her again. He would be just as lonely there as here. Nay, it would be
much worse if he had to think that the window was nothing but a hole in
the wall.

At the very moment when he burst out crying, the old nurse who had grown
to be one of the family, for she had not gone away when Miss Coleman did
not want any more nursing, came to the back door, which was of glass, to
close the shutters. She thought she heard a cry, and, peering out with a
hand on each side of