"I knew it; I was certain of it," said I, when I'd half read the letter from home. "In that case," said FRED, in the most unconcerned way, which he _will_ call philosophy, whereas I think it downright imprudence--but I fear dear Mamma's right; all men are imprudent--"In that case, we might have saved postage." "Now FRED, don't be frivolous. But I see, there'll be nothing right at home till we get fairly back. Everything will be sacrificed."-- "Is that your serious belief, my love?" said FRED, finishing his tea; and I nodded very decidedly.--"Well, then, suppose we pack up our traps and return to-day. And talking of home, you can't think, LOTTY, what a present you've made me without knowing it." "Have I indeed? What present, love?"-- "It was in my sleep; but then, it was one of those dreams that always forerun the reality. Do you know I dreamt that we'd returned home, and somehow when I tried to sit down in my chair, up I jumped again; and so again and again. Whenever I tried to be quiet and stretch my legs out at my fireside, I seemed possessed with a legion of imps that would lift me from my seat and pull me towards the door."-- "Hm! That's a very ugly dream, FRED," said I; and I know I looked thoughtful. "Very: but it's wonderful how, like a tranquillizing spirit, you appeared upon the scene. I thought, my dear, you looked more beautiful than is possible."-- "FREDERICK!"-- "Not but what I'm quite content as it is. You know, my love, it might have been worse."-- "Well," said I, "Mamma needn't have written to me that my honeymoon was nearly ended. It seems I'm not likely to forget _that_." "And when it was impossible for me to remain in the chair--when I continued to get up and sit down, and run here and run there--then, as I say, you appeared like a benevolent fairy--bearing across one arm what seemed to me a rainbow turned to silk; and in the other hand carrying a pair of slippers." "Well; and then?"-- "And then, with a thought, I had put on the morning-gown;--for it was that you carried--and placed my feet in the slippers. There never were more beautiful presents; never richer gifts for a wife to make her husband. For would you think it, LOTTY? No sooner had I wrapped the dressing-gown about me, than I became settled in the sweetest repose in my chair: and the very walls of the room seemed to make the softest music. And then the slippers! Most wonderful! Would you believe it, LOTTY--wherever the slippers touched, a flower sprang up; flowers and aromatic herbs! The very hearth seemed glowing and odorous with roses and thyme. But then, you know, it was only a dream, LOTTY. There's no such dressing-gown--and in this world no such slippers;" and then--I could see it--he looked in his odd way at me. "I suppose not, FRED," said I; for I wouldn't seem to understand him. "And then, if such slippers could be found, where's the husband's feet to fit 'em? 'T would be another story of the glass slipper."