There was some little life again in her eyes; some little spirit in her voice.

"Take me out of myself," she said; "tell me your dream." "It is nothing very remarkable, Frances.

We all of us sometimes see our dear lost ones in sleep.

I saw my mother again, as I used to see her in the nursery at bedtime--tall and beautiful, with her long dark hair failing over her white dressing-gown to the waist.

She stooped over me, and kissed me; and she looked surprised.