"Is that your serious belief, my love?" said Fred, finishing his tea; and I nodded very decidedly.—"Well, then, suppose we pack up our traps and return to-day. And talking of home, you can't think, Lotty, what a present you've made me without knowing it."
"Have I indeed? What present, love?"—
"It was in my sleep; but then, it was one of those dreams that always forerun the reality. Do you know I dreamt that we'd returned home, and somehow when I tried to sit down in my chair, up I jumped again; and so again and again. Whenever I tried to be quiet and stretch my legs out at my fireside, I seemed possessed with a legion of imps that would lift me from my seat and pull me towards the door."—
"Hm! That's a very ugly dream, Fred," said I; and I know I looked thoughtful.
"Very: but it's wonderful how, like a tranquillizing spirit, you appeared upon the scene. I thought, my dear, you looked more beautiful than is possible."—
"Frederick!"—
"Not but what I'm quite content as it is. You know, my love, it might have been worse."—
"Well," said I, "Mamma needn't have written to me that my honeymoon was nearly ended. It seems I'm not likely to forget that."
"And when it was impossible for me to remain in the chair—when I continued to get up and sit down, and run here and run there—- then, as I say, you appeared like a benevolent fairy—bearing across one arm what seemed to me a rainbow turned to silk; and in the other hand carrying a pair of slippers."
"Well; and then?"—