The Magic

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She did not know how long she slept. But she had been tired enough to sleep deeply and profoundly--too deeply and soundly to be disturbed by anything, even by the squeaks and scamperings of Melchisedec's entire family, if all his sons and daughters had chosen to come out of their hole to fight and tumble and play.

When she awakened it was rather suddenly, and she did not know that any particular thing had called her out of her sleep. The truth was, however, that it was a sound which had called her back-- a real sound--the click of the skylight as it fell in closing after a lithe white figure which slipped through it and crouched down close by upon the slates of the roof--just near enough to see what happened in the attic, but not near enough to be seen.

At first she did not open her eyes. She felt too sleepy and-- curiously enough--too warm and comfortable. She was so warm and comfortable, indeed, that she did not believe she was really awake. She never was as warm and cozy as this except in some lovely vision.

"What a nice dream!" she murmured. "I feel quite warm. I--don't--want--to--wake--up."

Of course it was a dream. She felt as if warm, delightful bedclothes were heaped upon her. She could actually FEEL blankets, and when she put out her hand it touched something exactly like a satin-covered eider-down quilt. She must not awaken from this delight-- she must be quite still and make it last.

But she could not--even though she kept her eyes closed tightly, she could not. Something was forcing her to awaken-- something in the room. It was a sense of light, and a sound-- the sound of a crackling, roaring little fire.

"Oh, I am awakening," she said mournfully. "I can't help it-- I can't."

Her eyes opened in spite of herself. And then she actually smiled-- for what she saw she had never seen in the attic before, and knew she never should see.

"Oh, I HAVEN'T awakened," she whispered, daring to rise on her elbow and look all about her. "I am dreaming yet." She knew it MUST be a dream, for if she were awake such things could not-- could not be.

Do you wonder that she felt sure she had not come back to earth? This is what she saw. In the grate there was a glowing, blazing fire; on the hob was a little brass kettle hissing and boiling; spread upon the floor was a thick, warm crimson rug; before the fire a folding-chair, unfolded, and with cushions on it; by the chair a small folding-table, unfolded, covered with a white cloth, and upon it spread small covered dishes, a cup, a saucer, a teapot; on the bed were new warm coverings and a satin-covered down quilt; at the foot a curious wadded silk robe, a pair of quilted slippers, and some books. The room of her dream seemed changed into fairyland-- and it was flooded with warm light, for a bright lamp stood on the table covered with a rosy shade.