“What is?” she asked.
“That you and I should be dreaming about the same absurdities.”
“Well, I do not know,” replied Mildred. “I have never cared to mention my silly reveries to any one. Indeed, it is the first time in my life that I have alluded to them.”
“May you not be wrong to call them ‘silly’? Some of the happiest moments of my life have been spent in this way. I frequently discover myself traveling about in some of Munchausen’s wonderful vehicles, and I become so absorbed that my imaginings appear as realities.”
“I, too, do the same thing,” said Mildred, turning her blue eyes upon him in surprise.
“Miss Mildred,” spoke up Ernest after a brief pause, “our minds seem to have been constructed in the same molds. Henceforth I shall be forever meeting you in my psychological peregrinations. I have no doubt that I shall often rove back to this beautiful yard and these grand oaks, when I am sitting around the bivouac fire or meditating in my tent.”
Mildred began to look serious, and to turn her face in order to conceal the treacherous blushes which, she felt, must be mantling her cheeks.
“I am glad to think,” she answered in a low, hesitating tone, “that your imprisonment here has been rendered tolerable.”
“Tolerable!” cried Ernest. “I wish such imprisonment could last forever!”