* * *

In the night she woke. She had been dreaming of the student and the
flowers and the councilor, who told her they were making game of her.
All was still in the room, the night lamp was burning on the table, and
her father and mother were both asleep.

"I wonder if my flowers are still lying in Sophie's bed," she thought to
herself. "How I should like to know!" She raised herself a little and
looked towards the door, which stood half open; within lay the flowers
and all her playthings. She listened, and it seemed to her that she
heard some one playing upon the piano, but quite softly, and more
sweetly than she had ever heard before.

"Now all the flowers are certainly dancing," thought she. "Oh, how I
should like to see them!" but she dared not get up for fear of waking
her father and mother. "If they would only come in here!" But the
flowers did not come, and the music went on so prettily that she could
restrain herself no longer, and she crept out of her little bed, stole
softly to the door, and peeped into the room. Oh, what a pretty sight it
was!

[Illustration: On the floor all the flowers danced gracefully....]

There was no night lamp in the room, still it was quite bright; the moon
shone through the window down upon the floor, and it was almost like
daylight. The hyacinths and tulips stood there in two rows. Not one was
left on the window, where stood the empty flower pots. On the floor all
the flowers danced gracefully, making all the turns, and holding each
other by their long green leaves as they twirled around. At the piano
sat a large yellow lily, which little Ida remembered to have seen in the
summer, for she recollected that the student had said, "How like she
is to Miss Laura," and how every one had laughed at the remark. But now
she really thought that the lily was very like the young lady. It had
exactly her manner of playing--bending its long yellow face, now to one
side and now to the other, and nodding its head to mark the time of the
beautiful music.

A tall blue crocus now stepped forward, sprang upon the table on which
lay Ida's playthings, went straight to the doll's cradle, and drew back
the curtains. There lay the sick flowers; but they rose at once, greeted
the other flowers, and made a sign that they would like to join in the
dance. They did not look at all ill now.

Suddenly a heavy noise was heard, as of something falling from the
table. Ida glanced that way