'I hardly know where I am yet.' 'Do you know me ?' said Mr Chester.
'Ay, I know you,' he answered.

'I was dreaming of you--we're not where I thought we were.

That's a comfort.' He looked round him as he spoke, and in particular looked above his head, as though he half expected to be standing under some object which had had existence in his dream.

Then he rubbed his eyes and shook himself again, and followed his conductor into his own rooms.
Mr Chester lighted the candles which stood upon his dressing-table, and wheeling an easy-chair towards the fire, which was yet burning, stirred up a cheerful blaze, sat down before it, and bade his uncouth visitor 'Come here,' and draw his boots off.
'You have been drinking again, my fine fellow,' he said, as Hugh went down on one knee, and did as he was told.
'As I'm alive, master, I've walked the twelve long miles, and waited here I don't know how long, and had no drink between my lips since dinner-time at noon.' 'And can you do nothing better, my pleasant friend, than fall asleep, and shake the very building with your snores ?' said Mr Chester.

'Can't you dream in your straw at home, dull dog as you are, that you need come here to do it ?--Reach me those slippers, and tread softly.' Hugh obeyed in silence.
'And harkee, my dear young gentleman,' said Mr Chester, as he put them on, 'the next time you dream, don't let it be of me, but of some dog or horse with whom you are better acquainted.