"What?"
"I can see a little girl lying in bed, looking at the roses on the wall."
"That's me," said Pollypod, in a tone of infinite content. "Who's in the room with the little girl? Not father!"
"No; not father, because father comes home so late."
"And the little girl is asleep before he comes home."
"Fast asleep, Pollypod. But there's some one else in the room--mother is there, working."
"That's right! that's right!" cried Pollypod, twining her fingers together in her excitement. "You are a wizard!"
"The little girl is lying with her eyes open, looking at the roses. She fixes her eyes upon one, and it changes. Lips come--like Lily's; eyes come, bright--like Lily's. Presently Lily's face is in the rose, smiling at the little girl. But the face fades—"
"Does it?" whispered Pollypod anxiously.
"And in its place a Doll appears—"