One Saturday morning while Mr. Hawkins was getting his car filled with gas at the service station across the street, Miss Nesdeburt waited in the office. She was wearing a dull, inconspicuous dress. She watched Grant, who was putting a door between the office and the living room--to take the place of the filmy curtain that had been there. We had had very little privacy, with only a thin bit of drapery separating our living room from the office. We still wouldn't have complete privacy, since there was a window in the top half of the new door--but as soon as I made little curtains for the window, no one would be able to look into our living room. When Grant laid down his tools and went out to the garage, Miss Nesdeburt smiled at me, and two delicate fans of wrinkles appeared about her eyes. "I had a dream," she told me, "and I think people should share their dreams, don't you, ma cherie?" "Absolutely," I agreed. I was at the desk in the office, catching up on the previous day's bookkeeping. "I dreamed I was a beautiful young girl," she said, taking her glasses off with one tiny hand, and holding the other hand up, letting it droop gracefully at the wrist. "My hair was fiery red, simply terribly red, and so were my lips. I was built like a goddess. My bosom was high and proud, my waist was just the right size for a strong man's hands to encircle." She stopped, and stood there in ecstatic reverie. "And then?" I prodded. "Ah, and then. There was a prince--a gallant, polite prince with the most wonderful sense of humor. He wore a suit of armor and rode a white charger and went out to do battle for me--" "Wasn't he a knight?" I interrupted. "No, no, a prince; or at least, he said he was. And I see no reason to think he wasn't being truthful about it.... Anyway, he loved me more than anything else in the world, and he wanted me to marry him." I finished adding a column of figures. "And did you do it?" I asked, writing down the total. "No." Miss Nesdeburt's blue eyes were sad, and she replaced her glasses. "I got all dressed up in my hoop skirt and leg o' mutton sleeves, but when it was time for the ceremony it turned out he had worn just red flannel underwear to the church as a joke. He had such a sense of humor, you know." "Mm hmm. And how do you interpret the dream?" "Oh, I've figured it all out very carefully, according to Elmo's teaching, and there's only one possible meaning. I'm either going to inherit a large sum of money soon, or else it means a close relative of mine will inherit some." I laughed as she went out to get into Mr. Hawkins' coupe, which had just driven up onto the gravel. The idea of Mr. Hawkins as a prince or as a knight amused me, and I was still smiling about her obvious little dream when the telephone rang, about half an hour later. It was a gentleman who, in short, clipped phrases, wanted to reserve three cabins that evening, for a large party of people who were going to spend a few days in the desert.