Well, gentlemen, I was always for gaming and romping, and folks would say that there wasn't a lass like Molly Sykes for miles round. In fact, I used to be called the pride of the village, though I say it, that shouldn't. At the time I speak of, I was at the village school, and there was hardly a young man in the village that did not come a courtin' after me, but I paid no attention to none of them, as I had been attached from childhood to my Jack, then a spruce lad of some eighteen summers, but I laughed and joked with all, so I was always popular. The only school friend I ever had was a young girl about my own age--an orphan, one Claribel Falkland, of an extremely delicate and sensitive nature, the sweetest temper in the world, and of a beauty which in my heart I felt surpassed my own, for it was more the beauty of a high-born lady. I see before me now her pale oval face with her large lustrous hazel eyes, her smooth dark nut-brown hair, and her slim graceful figure which seemed to glide rather than walk about. I recollect, too, her low soft voice that had music in the very tone of it, and her sweet look radiant with the innocence of her heart. I know not how two beings of such opposite temperaments should ever have become such fast friends, for Claribel was pensive and melancholy, and of a studious turn, poring over every book she could get hold of, whilst I, on the contrary, was a perfect hoyden, always laughing and playing the fool when I ought to have been at work. However strange it may appear, it is certain that a sympathy stronger than that generally found between two sisters grew up between us. But let me pass on to describe certain peculiarities in the constitution of my young school friend. In the first place, she had been from childhood a sleep walker, a phenomenon that I soon discovered, for poor Claribel being an orphan and having no home of her own, used to live with us, and we two always slept together. At first this peculiarity gave me no little alarm, as she would often rise in the middle of the night, light a candle and wander all over the house, and I was afraid that some night she would set the house on fire. However, no accident ever occurred, and to my surprise I found that she seemed just as cautious in her sleep as if she had been in her waking state, always shading the flame with her hand and using such extreme caution when passing near the curtains or anything else at all likely to catch fire, that I used to doubt sometimes if she really could be asleep.