“I wish now I'd thought,”said Tom,with a repentant tone;“but I dreamed about you,anyway.That's something,ain't it?”
“It ain't much—a cat does that much—but it's better than nothing.What did you dream?”
“Why,Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by the bed,and Sid was sitting by the woodbox,and Mary next to him.”
“Well,so we did.So we always do.I'm glad your dreams could take even that much trouble about us.”
“And I dreamt that Joe Harper's mother was here.”
“Why,she was here!Did you dream any more?”
“Oh,lots.But it's so dim,now.”
“Well,try to recollect—can't you?”
“Somehow it seems to me that the wind—the wind blowed the—the —”
“Try harder,Tom!The wind did blow something.Come!”
Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious minute,and then said:
“I've got it now!I've got it now!It blowed the candle!”
“Mercy on us!Go on,Tom—go on!”
“And it seems to me that you said,‘Why,I believe that that door—’”
“Go on,Tom!”
“Just let me study a moment—just a moment.Oh,yes—you said you believed the door was open.”
“As I'm sitting here,I did!Didn't I,Mary!Go on!”
“And then—and then—well I won't be certain,but it seems like as if you made Sid go and—and —”
“Well?Well?What did I make him do,Tom?What did I make him do?”
“You made him—you—Oh,you made him shut it.”
“Well,for the land's sake!I never heard the beat of that in all my days!Don't tell me there ain't anything in dreams,any more.Sereny Harper shall know of this before I'm an hour older.I'd like to see her get around this with her rubbage 'bout superstition.Go on,Tom!”
“Oh,it's all getting just as bright as day,now.Next you said I warn't bad,only mischeevous and harum-scarum,and not any more responsible than—than—I think it was a colt,or something.”
“And so it was!Well,goodness gracious!Go on,Tom!”
“And then you began to cry.”
“So I did.So I did.Not the first time,neither.And then —”
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