“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering where we live.”
“Why, how absent you are, dear. This is our uptown house.”
It was all right. The other house was the dream. They spent a pleasant evening with her mother, and then they returned home. It was indeed all right, and just as it should be. She had certainly eaten something that was not best for her, or she would not have dreamed three times about the house by the river. Under the assurance of a stable residence in one place Mrs. Arburton’s spirits rose, and her health visibly improved. She resolved never to mention her absurd dream about the other house. She felt sure that it had never been built—and yet! Oh! she would not think about it any more. She would enjoy the happy present in her lovely colonial villa in the fashionable quarter of the town.
Mr. Arburton never came home to lunch now. He started off very early every morning, and was always late to dinner. It was not in young Mrs. Arburton’s nature to ignore this long.
“My love,” she said one stormy night when he came home tired, cold, and hungry, “My love, if the other house is finished we might go there and stay till this stormy weather is over. I miss you dreadfully at lunch, and it’s such a pity to let you travel so far in the rain.”
“All right, my dear. It would be better to go back again.”
“Back again!” Then it was not a dream.
The next morning young Mrs. Arburton was convinced that her mind was entirely unhinged. She did not dare to mention it to her husband. She went about her morning duties mechanically. They were in the lower town house. She knew the smell of the lumber yards only too well.
The thing was unbearable. She would settle the matter or perish in the attempt. The moment her husband had gone to his office she put on her things, took the trolley, and went up to the Heights. She found the avenue without the slightest difficulty. The colonial villa had totally disappeared. She asked a policeman if he had seen a white villa in the neighborhood. The man grinned broadly and said he guessed it was off duty.
She turned away indignant. What did the insolent creature mean? Nothing was to be gained by waiting there, and she took the trolley back home. On reaching the lower town she lost her way for the first time in her life. She wandered past several lumber yards, looking for that three-story house, and could not find it. Once she felt sure she had reached the spot—the house was not there. Thoroughly alarmed at what she regarded as her serious mental condition, she went at once to her husband’s office.