her had said that the
dance would not be over until maybe six o'clock in the morning, and
they offered her the key of the house; but Granny had said that she
would sit up for her.

"I will doze a bit upon a chair. If I am tired I will lie down upon my
bed. I shall hear Molly; I shall not sleep much. She will not be able
to enter the house without my hearing her."

It was extraordinary to hear her speak like this, and, a little
frightened by her sudden sanity, they waited up with her until
midnight. Then they tried to persuade her to go to bed, to allow them
to lock up the house; but she sat looking into the fire, seeming to see
the girl dancing at the ball quite clearly. She seemed so contented
that they left her, and for an hour she sat dreaming, seeing Molly
young and beautifully dressed in the wedding-gown of more than sixty
years ago.

Dream after dream went by, the fire had burned low, the sods were
falling into white ashes, and the moonlight began to stream into the
room. It was the chilliness that had come into the air that awoke her,
and she threw several sods of turf on to the fire. An hour passed, and
old Margaret awoke for the last time.

"The bells are ringing, the bells are ringing," she said, and she went
to the kitchen door; she opened it, and stood in the garden under the
rays of the moon. The night of her marriage was just such a night as
this one, and she had stood in the garden amid the summer flowers, just
as she did now.

"The day is beginning," she said, mistaking the moonlight for the dawn,
and, listening, it seemed to her that she heard once more the sound of
bells coming across the hill. "Yes, the bells are ringing," she said;
"I can hear them quite clearly, and I must hurry and get dressed--I
must not keep him waiting."

And returning to the house, she went to her box, where her gown had
lain so many years; and though no gown was there it seemed to her that
there was one, and one more beautiful than the gown she had cherished.
It was the same gown, only grown more beautiful. It had grown into
softer silk, into a more delicate colour; it had become more beautiful,
and she held the dream-gown in her hands and she sat with it in the
moonlight, thinking how fair he would find her in it. Once her hands
went to her hair, and then she dropped them again.

"I must begin to dress myself; I must not keep him waiting."

The moonlight lay still upon her knees, but little by little the moon
moved