Openshaw, as his wife returned to bed. “Ailsie wakened up in a fright, with some story of a man having been in the room to say his prayers—a dream, I suppose.” And no more was said at the time.

Mrs. Openshaw had almost forgotten the whole affair when she got up about seven o’clock. But, bye-and-bye, she heard a sharp altercation going on in the nursery. Norah speaking angrily to Ailsie, a most unusual thing. Both Mr. and Mrs. Openshaw listened in astonishment.

“Hold your tongue, Ailsie; let me hear none of your dreams; never let me hear you tell that story again!” Ailsie began to cry.

Mr. Openshaw opened the door of communication before his wife could say a word.

“Norah, come here!”

The nurse stood at the door, defiant. She perceived she had been heard, but she was desperate.

“Don’t let me hear you speak in that manner to Ailsie again,” he said sternly, and shut the door.

Norah was infinitely relieved; for she had dreaded some questioning; and a little blame for sharp speaking was what she could well bear, if cross-examination was let alone.

Downstairs they went, Mr. Openshaw carrying Ailsie; the sturdy Edwin coming step by step, right foot foremost, always holding his mother’s hand. Each child was placed in a chair by the breakfast table, and then Mr. and Mrs. Openshaw stood together at the window, awaiting their visitors’ appearance and making plans for the day. There was a pause. Suddenly Mr. Openshaw turned to Ailsie, and said:

“What a little goosy somebody is with her dreams, waking up poor, tired mother in the middle of the night with a story of a man being in the room.”

“Father! I’m sure I saw him,” said Ailsie, half crying. “I don’t want to make Norah angry; but I was not asleep, for all she says I was. I had been asleep—and I awakened up quite wide awake though I was so frightened. I kept my eyes nearly shut, and I saw the man quite plain. A great brown man with a beard. He said his prayers. And then he looked at Edwin. And then Norah took him by the arm and led him away, after they had whispered a bit together.”

“Now, my little woman must be reasonable,” said Mr. Openshaw, who was always patient with Ailsie. “There was no man in the house last night at all. No man comes into the house as you know, if you think; much less goes up into the nursery. But sometimes we dream something has happened, and the dream is so like reality, that you are not the first person, little woman, who has stood out that the thing has really happened.”

“But, indeed it was not a dream!” said Ailsie, beginning to cry.

Just then Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick came down, looking grave and discomposed. All during breakfast time they were silent and uncomfortable. As soon as the breakfast things were taken away, and the children had been carried upstairs, Mr. Chadwick began in an evidently preconcerted manner to inquire if his nephew was certain that all his servants were honest; for, that Mrs. Chadwick had that morning missed a very valuable brooch, which she had worn the day before.