from a fashionable reception between twelve and
one in the morning. Hortense was up and tired. She could scarcely
conceal her yawns as she unstitched the diamonds which she had sewn on
her mistress's dress earlier in the evening, and put away the
different jewels. At last, however, her duties were over, and she went
away to her room.

Mrs. Ogilvie got into bed, and closing her eyes, prepared to doze off
into delicious slumber. She was pleasantly tired, and no more. As she
sank into repose, the house in the country and the guests who would
fill it mingled with her dreams. Suddenly she heard a clear voice in
her ears. It awoke her with a sort of shock. She raised herself on her
elbow, and saw her little daughter standing in her white nightdress by
the bedside.

"Mother," said Sibyl.

"What are you doing there, Sibyl? Go back to bed directly."

"Please, mother, I can't sleep. I have got a sort of up-and-down and
round-and-round feeling. I don't know what it is, but it's worse when
I put my head on my pillow. I 'spect I'm lonesome, mother. Mother, I
really, truly, am going to be sensible, and I know all about father;
but may I get into your bed just at the other side. I will lie as
still as a mouse; may I, mother?"

"Oh dear, how you tremble," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "how more than annoying
this is! You certainly are not a sensible child at the present moment.
If you felt so strange and nervous, why didn't you ask Nurse or Miss
Winstead to sleep in the room with you?"

"But, mother, that wouldn't have done me any good."

"What do you mean?"

"They wouldn't be you. I'll be quite happy if I can get into bed
alongside of you, mother."

"Of course you may, child, but please don't disturb me. I am very
tired, and want to sleep."

Sibyl ran round to the other side of the bed, slipped in, and lay as
quiet as a mouse.

Mrs. Ogilvie curled up comfortably, arranged her pillows, and closed
her eyes. She was very sleepy, but what was the matter with her? She
could not lose herself in unconsciousness. Was the perfectly still
little figure by her side exercising some queer power over her,
drawing something not often stirred within her heart to the surface?
She turned at last and looked at the child. Sibyl was lying on her
back with her eyes wide open.

"Why don't you shut your eyes and go to sleep?" asked her mother.

"I can't, on account of the round-and-roundness feeling," replied
Sibyl.

"What a funny little thing you