As is well known, a fall is not apt to hurt a somnambulist, for the reason that in sleep the muscles are entirely relaxed; but the jar woke Kitty, and she found herself, clad only in her little white nightgown, lying in the midst of the red blossoms.

She did not scream; on the contrary, she felt a strange sense of delight in the odorous flowers and the scent of the warm, soft earth.

But in a moment she realized what had happened, and scrambled up into a sitting posture.

“My gracious! it’s Kit!” exclaimed a voice, and from among the group of people on the veranda Cousin Jack ran down to her.  The others followed, and in a moment Kitty was surrounded by her own people.  She flew to her mother’s arms, and Cousin Ethel quickly drew off her own evening wrap and put it around Kitty.

“How did you happen to fall?” asked her father, who soon saw she was not hurt, or even badly jarred.

“I was asleep, I guess,” Kitty returned; “anyway I dreamed that I wanted to jump in the red geranium sea,—­so I jumped.”

“You jumped! out of the window?”

“Yes,—­that is, off of the little balcony.  You see, I was asleep until I landed.  Then I found out where I was.”

Kitty was quite calm about it, and cuddled into the folds of Cousin Ethel’s satin cloak, while she told her story.

“Of course, I shouldn’t have jumped if I had been awake,” she said; “but you can’t help what you do in your sleep, can you?”

“No,” said Uncle Steve; “you weren’t a bit to blame, Kitsie, and I’m thankful you came down so safely.  But I think that window must be fastened before you go to sleep again.  One such escapade is enough for one night.”

The other guests on the veranda looked curiously at the group, but Kitty was protected from view by her own people, and, too, the big cloak hid all deficiencies of costume.

“Well, we have to get used to these unexpected performances,” said Mr. Maynard, “but I do believe my children are more ingenious than others in trumping up new games.”

“We are,” said Kitty, “but usually it’s Midget who does the crazy things.  King and I don’t cut up jinks much.”

“That’s so,” agreed Uncle Steve.  “Last summer Miss Mischief kept us all in hot water.  But this year, Kitsie has been a model of propriety.  She never walks out of second-story windows when she’s at our house.  I guess I’d better take her back there.”

“Not to-morrow,” said Kitty.  “Wait till next day, won’t you, Uncle Steve?”

“All right; day after to-morrow, then.  But we mustn’t stay away from Grandma longer than that.”

“And now I think our adventurous little explorer must go back to her dreams,” said Mrs. Maynard.  “Who wants to carry her upstairs?”

As Uncle Steve was the biggest and strongest of the three men, he picked up the young sleepwalker, and started off with her.  Mrs. Maynard followed, and they soon had Kitty safely in bed again, with the French window securely fastened against any further expeditions.