A Likely Story

by William De Morgan

Now Mrs. Aiken had two or three or four or five faults, but secretiveness was not among them. In fact she said of herself that she "always outed with everything." This time, she outed with, or externalised—but we much prefer the lady's own expression—what proved of some importance in the evolution of events. "Oh, of course, it was because of the ... but it was such nonsense!" So she spoke, and was silent. The cat was still in the bag, but one paw was out, at least.

Miss Upwell had her own share of inquisitiveness, and a little of someone else's. "Never mind! Do tell me," she said, open-eyed and receptive. The slight accent on "me" was irresistible.

"It was silliness—sheer silliness!" said Mrs. Aiken. "An absurd dream I had, which made Volumnia say it was evident I was only being obstinate about Reginald, because of Science and stuff. And so going back and begging pardon reminded me. That was all."

"But what had the picture to do with the dream? That's what I want to know," said Madeline.

"The picture was in the dream," said Mrs. Aiken. "But it was such frightful nonsense."

"Oh, never mind what nonsense it was! Do—do tell me all about it. I can't tell you what an intense interest I take in dreams. I do indeed!"

"If I do, you won't repeat it to anybody. Now will you? Promise!"

"Upon my word, I won't. Honour bright!" Thereon, as Mrs. Aiken really wanted to tell, but was dreadfully afraid of being thought credulous, she told the whole story of the dream, with every particular, just as she had told it to Miss Volumnia Bax.

Her hearer contrived to hold in, with a great effort, until the story reached "Well—that's all! At least, all I can tell you. Wasn't it absurd?" Then her pent-up impatience found vent. "Now listen to my story!" she cried, so loud that her hearer gave a big start, exclaiming, "What—have you got a story? Oh, do tell it! I've told you mine, you know!"

Then Madeline made no more ado, but told the whole story of Mr. Pelly's dream, omitting all but a bare sketch of the Italian narrative—just enough to give local truth.