“Your looks won me; I climbed on the bed and put my arms about you, and I think we both fell asleep.  I was aroused by a scream; you were sitting up screaming.  I was frightened, and slipped down upon the ground, and, it seemed to me, lost consciousness for a moment; and when I came to myself, I was again in my nursery at home.  Your face I have never forgotten since.  I could not be misled by mere resemblance. You are the lady whom I saw then.”

It was now my turn to relate my corresponding vision, which I did, to the undisguised wonder of my new acquaintance.

“I don’t know which should be most afraid of the other,” she said, again smiling—­“If you were less pretty I think I should be very much afraid of you, but being as you are, and you and I both so young, I feel only that I have made your acquaintance twelve years ago, and have already a right to your intimacy; at all events it does seem as if we were destined, from our earliest childhood, to be friends.  I wonder whether you feel as strangely drawn towards me as I do to you; I have never had a friend—­shall I find one now?” She sighed, and her fine dark eyes gazed passionately on me.

Now the truth is, I felt rather unaccountably towards the beautiful stranger.  I did feel, as she said, “drawn towards her,” but there was also something of repulsion.  In this ambiguous feeling, however, the sense of attraction immensely prevailed.  She interested and won me; she was so beautiful and so indescribably engaging.

I perceived now something of languor and exhaustion stealing over her, and hastened to bid her good night.

“The doctor thinks,” I added, “that you ought to have a maid to sit up with you tonight; one of ours is waiting, and you will find her a very useful and quiet creature.”

“How kind of you, but I could not sleep, I never could with an attendant in the room.  I shan’t require any assistance—­and, shall I confess my weakness, I am haunted with a terror of robbers.  Our house was robbed once, and two servants murdered, so I always lock my door.  It has become a habit—­and you look so kind I know you will forgive me.  I see there is a key in the lock.”

She held me close in her pretty arms for a moment and whispered in my ear, “Good night, darling, it is very hard to part with you, but good night; tomorrow, but not early, I shall see you again.”

She sank back on the pillow with a sigh, and her fine eyes followed me with a fond and melancholy gaze, and she murmured again “Good night, dear friend.”

Young people like, and even love, on impulse.  I was flattered by the evident, though as yet undeserved, fondness she showed me.  I liked the confidence with which she at once received me.  She was determined that we should be very near friends.

Next day came and we met again.  I was delighted with my companion; that is to say, in many respects.

Her looks lost nothing in daylight—­she was certainly the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, and the unpleasant remembrance of the face presented in my early dream, had lost the effect of the first unexpected recognition.