“How lovely those roses are, and how sweet they smell!” he said, after another interval of silence, and as if there were a change in the pleasant dreams he was dreaming.
“Yes,” she replied, and looked at him and smiled, and, smiling, sewed on.
“Where is Ellen to-night?” he asked, after a little pause.
“She is walking in this beautiful moonlight.”
“All alone?” he inquired, with a smile.
“No! with Edward.”
“Ah! with Edward.” And there was evidently another turn in the pleasant dream.
“And Gabriel—where is Gabriel?” asked he, still shaking the slippered foot.
His wife smoothed her work, and said, with an air of tranquil happiness,
“I suppose he is walking too.”