Mr. Chester, "it
is upon sleep. It is done in the sonnet form, a very beautiful measure
which I have made my own. I will read it now.

"SONNET ON SLEEP

"O Sleep, that fillst the human breast with peace,
When night's dim curtains swing from out the West,
In what way, in what manner, could we rest
Were thy beneficent offices to cease?
O Sleep, thou art indeed the snowy fleece
Upon Day's lamb. A welcome guest
That comest alike to palace and to nest
And givest the cares of life a glad release.
O Sleep, I beg thee, rest upon my eyes,
For I am weary, worn, and sad,--indeed,
Of thy great mercies have I piteous need
So come and lead me off to Paradise."

His voice broke at the end, not so much from the intrinsic beauty of the
lines as from perceiving Mr. Chester close at hand, grinning like the
fabled pussy-cat of Cheshire, except that he did not fade away, leaving
only the grin.

Elaine felt the alien presence and looked around. Woman-like, she quickly
grasped the situation.

"I have been having a rare treat, Mr. Chester," she said, in her smoothest
tones. "Mr. Perkins has very kindly been reading to me his beautiful
_Sonnet on Sleep_, composed during a period of wakefulness last night. Did
you hear it? Is it not a most unusual sonnet?"

"It is, indeed," answered Dick, dryly. "I never before had the privilege
of hearing one that contained only twelve lines. Dante and Petrarch and
Shakespeare and all those other ducks put fourteen lines in every blamed
sonnet, for good measure."

Hurt to the quick, the sensitive poet walked away.

"How can you speak so!" cried Elaine, angrily. "Is not Mr. Perkins
privileged to create a form?"

"To create a form, yes," returned Dick, easily, "but not to monkey with an
old one. There's a difference."

Elaine would have followed the injured one had not Dick interfered. He
caught her hand quickly, a new and unaccountable lump in his throat
suddenly choking his utterance. "I say, Elaine," he said, huskily, "you're
not thinking of hooking up with that red-furred lobster, are you?"

"I do not know," responded Elaine, with icy dignity, "what your uncouth
language may mean, but I tolerate no interference whatever with my
personal affairs." In a moment she was gone, and Dick watched the slender,
pink-clad figure returning to the h