and bring her to my side.

"'Shake hands with him,' she commanded.

"To my horror the tabby deliberately extended a paw and tapped me on
the knuckles.

"'Oh!' I cried, in agony; 'this is a horrible dream! Why, oh, why
can't I wake!'

"'Yes,' she said, dropping the cat, 'it is partly a dream, but some of
it is real. Remember what I say, my darling; you are to go to-morrow
morning and meet the twelve-o'clock train from Antwerp at the Gare du
Nord. Papa and I are coming to Paris on that train. Don't you know
that we are not really here now, you silly boy? Good-night, then. I
shall be very glad to see you.'

"I saw her glide from the room, followed by the professor, playing a
gay quick-step, to which the cats danced two and two.

"'Good-night, sir,' said each cat as it passed my bed; and I dreamed
no more.

"When I awoke, the room, the bed had vanished; I was in the street,
walking rapidly; the sun shone down on the broad, white pavements of
Paris, and the streams of busy life flowed past me on either side. How
swiftly I was walking! Where the devil was I going? Surely I had
business somewhere that needed immediate attention. I tried to
remember when I had awakened, but I could not. I wondered where I had
dressed myself; I had apparently taken great pains with my toilet, for
I was immaculate, monocle and all, even down to a long-stemmed rose
nestling in my button-hole. I knew Paris and recognized the streets
through which I was hurrying. Where could I be going? What was my
hurry? I glanced at my watch and found I had not a moment to lose.
Then, as the bells of the city rang out mid-day, I hastened into the
railroad station on the Rue Lafayette and walked out to the platform.
And as I looked down the glittering track, around the distant curve
shot a locomotive followed by a long line of cars. Nearer and nearer
it came, while the station-gongs sounded and the switch-bells began
ringing all along the track.

"'Antwerp express!' cried the sous-chef de gare, and as the train
slipped along the tiled platform I sprang upon the steps of a
first-class carriage and threw open the door.

"'How do you do, Mr. Kensett?' said Wilhelmina Wyeth, springing
lightly to the platform. 'Really it is very nice of you to come to the
train.' At the same moment a bald, mild-eyed gentleman emerged from
the depths of the same compartment, carrying a large, covered basket.

"'How are you, Kensett?' he said. 'Glad to see you again. Rather