"They are earlier than we are," Reynolds replied. "I had no idea it was so late."
"Didn't you sleep well?" Glen asked.
"Never slept better, that is, after I got to sleep. The wonderful events of last night kept me awake for a while."
Glen blushed and her eyes dropped. She did not tell how she, too, had lain awake much longer than anyone else in the house, nor that her pillow was moist with tears of happiness.
"I hope your dreams were pleasant," she at length remarked, "You know the old saying."
Reynolds' mind seemed suddenly centred upon the piece of meat be was cutting, and he did not at once reply. This Glen noticed, and an expression of anxiety appeared in her eyes.
"Do you wish me to tell you?" Reynolds asked, lifting his eyes to hers.
"If you don't mind. But I am afraid your dreams were bad."
"Not altogether; merely light and shade. The light was my dream of you, while the shade was of Curly."
"You dreamed of him!" Glen paused in her eating, while her face turned pale.