The endless singing of the stream is hushing me into a sweet drowsiness even as I write.

By the way, I wonder if I have written sense.

If not, forgive me! But I am much too lazy to read it through.

I think I must have eaten of the lotus.

Good-bye, Tommy dear! Write when you can and tell me that all is well with you, as I think it must be--though I cannot tell--with your always loving, though for the moment strangely bewitched, sister, Stella." Tommy put down the letter and lay still, peering forth under frowning brows.