SQUARING ACCOUNTS
Almost simultaneously Mr. Wibberley-Stimpson and his son and daughters opened their eyes, then rubbed them, and sat up and looked about them with a bewilderment that gradually gave way to intense relief. For, although the light had faded, their surroundings were reassuringly familiar. They were in their own drawing-room at "Inglegarth." It occurred at once to most of them that they had never actually left it—an impression that was pleasantly confirmed by Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson's first remark as she awoke later.
"Why, hasn't the dinner-gong gone yet?" she inquired crossly. "Cook gets more and more unpunctual!"
"I don't think it can be eight o'clock yet, my dear," said her husband, "it's quite light still."
"Nonsense, Sidney, it must be long past dinner-time! I've been so lost in my own thoughts that somehow I——"
"Now, Mother, you know you've been asleep and only just woke up!" said Edna, from one of the chintz couches.
"Have I? Perhaps I did drop off just for a few seconds. In fact I must have done—for I begin to recollect having quite a curious dream. I dreamed that you and I, Sidney, were King and Queen of some absurd fairy Kingdom or other, and that—well, it was not at all a pleasant dream."
"It's a most singular coincidence, Selina," he said, "but I've been dreaming much the same sort of thing myself!"
The others looked at one another, but none of them ventured to express just yet what was in all their minds.
"Have you?" said his wife languidly. "I suppose it was telepathy or something of that kind. Ring for Mitchell, Clarence—I hope dinner has not been allowed to get cold. And—and Miss Heritage seems to have left the drawing-room. Run up, Ruby, and tell her to come down."