Miss Ludington followed her, wondering, yet not wondering.
"It seems so strange to see you so familiar with this house," she said, with a little hysterical laugh, "and yet, of course, I know it is not strange." "No," replied the girl, looking at her with a certain astonishment, "I should think not.

It would be strange, indeed, if I were not familiar here.

The only strange thing is to feel that I am not at home here, that I am a guest in this house." "You are not a guest," exclaimed Miss Ludington, hurriedly, for she saw the dazed look coming again into the girl's eyes.

"You shall be mistress here.

Paul and I ask nothing better than to be your servants." To pass from the waking to the dreaming state is in general to exchange a prosaic and matter-of-fact world for one of fantastic improbabilities; but it is safe to assume that the three persons who fell asleep beneath Miss Ludington's roof that morning, just as the birds began to twitter, encountered in dreamland no experiences so strange as those which they had passed through with their eyes open the previous evening..