night."

"Tell me what it was," she begged.

"I dare not."

"I thought you would dare anything."

"No; you see, dreams are such intimate, unconventional mysteries.
Dreams have no regard for law or custom The soul and the body seem
equally free and without sin or shame. I have a curious feeling
of awe about sleep and dreams. It's the surest evidence I have of
immortality and the reality of a spiritual life. It is to me the
prophecy of the ideal world, too, in which we will dare to live
some day what we really are, without pretence or hypocrisy--live
that deep secret inner life we try sometimes to hide from the eye
of God."

"And you will not even give me a hint of this dream?"

"No. It was very foolish, but very charming and beautiful. It was
in part a picture from that dream which made me laugh awhile ago
about your eyes."

"I think it mean in you to tell me that much and no more."

"I would tell you if I dared. I may dare some day."

She was afraid to ask him after that, and yet something within
cried for joy.