"Fearest thou me, my child? Am I not thy friend? Knowest thou not the name of HELIOBAS?" At this word I start and gasp for breath; I would shriek, but cannot, for a heavy hand seems to close my mouth, and an immense weight presses me down. I struggle violently with this unseen Power--little by little I gain the advantage. One effort more! I win the victory--I wake! * * * * * "Sakes alive!" says a familiar voice; "you HAVE had a spell of sleep! I got home about two, nearly starving, and I found you here curled up 'in a rosy infant slumber,' as the song says. So I hunted up the Colonel and had lunch, for it seemed a sin to disturb you. It's just struck four. Shall we have some tea up here?" I looked at Mrs. Everard, and smiled assent. So I had been sleeping for two hours and a half, and I had evidently been dreaming all the time; but my dreams had been as vivid as realities. I felt still rather drowsy, but I was thoroughly rested and in a state of delicious tranquillity. My friend rang the bell for the tea, and then turned round and surveyed me with a sort of wonder. "What have you done to yourself, child?" she said at last, approaching the bed where I lay, and staring fixedly at me. "What do you mean?" "Why, you look a different creature. When I left you this morning you were pale and haggard, a sort of die-away delicate invalid; now your eyes are bright; and your cheeks have quite a lovely colour in them; your lips, too, are the right tint. But perhaps," and here she looked alarmed--"perhaps you've got the fever?" "I don't think so," I said amusedly, and I stretched out my hand for her to feel. "No, you haven't," she continued, evidently reassured; "your palm is moist and cool, and your pulse is regular. Well, you look spry, anyhow. I shouldn't wonder if you made up your mind to have a dance to-night." "Dance?" I queried. "What dance, and where?" "Well, Madame Didier, that jolly little furbelowed Frenchwoman with whom I was driving just now, has got up a regular party to-night--" "Hans Breitmann gib a barty?" I interposed, with a mock solemn air of inquiry. Amy laughed. "Well, yes, it MAY be that kind of thing, for all I know to the contrary. Anyhow, she's hired the band and ordered a right-down elegant supper. Half the folks in the hotel are going, and a lot of outsiders have got invitations. She asked if we couldn't come--myself, the Colonel, and you. I said I could answer for myself and the Colonel, but not for you, as you were an invalid. But if you keep on looking as you do at present, no one will believe that there's anything the matter with you.--Tea, Alphonse!" This to a polite waiter, who was our special attendant, and who just then knocked at the door to know "madame's" orders.