l cups? I called them Dave and
Dolly. Dolly was very small. Oh, Dolly!" Dolly's size, and her
tenderness on one's knee, were, so to speak, audible in the voice that
became tender to apostrophise her.

"Dave and Dolly Wardle? Of course they are real! As real as you or me!
There they are in Sapps Court, with Uncle Mo and Aunt M'riar. And Susan
Burr," Then such a nice scheme crossed Gwen's mind.

But old Maisie seemed adrift, not able to be sure of any memory; past
and present at war in her mind, either intolerant of the other. "Then
tell me, dear," said she. "Is the other real too? Is it not a thing I
have dreamed, a thing I have dreamed in the night, here in Widow
Thrale's cottage ... where I came in the cart ... where I came from the
great house where the sweet old gentleman was, that was your father ...
where I could see out over the tree lands ... where my Ruth came to
me?..." The affection for her daughter, that had struck root firmly in
her heart, remained a solid fact, whether she was thinking of her as
before or after the revelation of her identity.

Gwen sat beside her on the bed-edge, her arm round her head on its
pillow, her free hand soothing the restless fingers that would not be
still. "What is it you think you have dreamed, Mrs. Picture dear?" said
she.

"It was all a dream, I think. Just a mad dream--but then--but then--did
not my Ruth think I was mad?..."

"But what was it? Tell it to me, now, quietly."

"It was that my Phoebe--my sister--oh, my dear sister!--dead so many
years ago--sat by me here, as you sit now--and we talked and talked of
the old time--and our young Squire, so beautiful, upon his horse.... Oh,
but then--but then!..." She checked herself suddenly, and a look of
horror came in her face; then went on:--"No, listen! There was an awful
thing in the dream--a bad thing--about a letter.... Oh, how can I tell
it?..."

Gwen caught at the pause to speak, saying gently but firmly:--"Dear Mrs.
Picture, it was no dream, but all true. Believe me, I know. When you are
quite well and strong, I will tell you all over again about the letter,
and how my dear old father found it all out for you. And I tell you
what! You shall come and live here with your sister and daughter,
instead of Sapps Court.... Oh no--you shall have Dave and Dolly. They
shall come too." This was Gwen's scheme, but it was no older than the
mention just made of it. "I can do these things," she added. "Papa lets
me do what I c