"It's the loveliest, loveliest dress that ever was seen! How can I thank you?" If passion found a place in Mrs. Lenoir's breast, it found none in her face. "I want no thanks, Lizzie; it was a pleasure to me to make the dress for you. Let me sit by your bedside a little--in the dark. Take off the dress; I am glad you like it--there, that will do. Now jump into bed. You have to get up early in the morning." She arranges the dress over the back of a chair, and blowing out the light, sits by the bed in darkness. "I don't think I shall sleep any more to-night, Mrs. Lenoir." "Yes, you will, Lizzie. Sleep comes to the young and happy." "You speak so sadly--but it is your way." "Yes, Lizzie, it is my way." "You don't sleep well yourself, Mrs. Lenoir." "Not always." "It must be dreadful not to be able to sleep. One has such happy dreams. Do not you?" "I dream but seldom, Lizzie; and when I do, I wake up with the prayer that I had died in my sleep. When I was as young as you, I used to have happy dreams, but they never came true." "I wish I could do something to make you feel less sorrowful," says Lizzie, overflowing with pity and gratitude. "You can do nothing, Lizzie. When you are married----" "O, Mrs. Lenoir!" "As I hope you will be soon, I will make you a prettier dress than this." "It's not possible--nothing _could_ be prettier." "Charles--your lover, Lizzie--is not much older than you." "Oh, yes, he is; ever so much! I am nearly nineteen; he is twenty-three." "He truly loves you, Lizzie?" "Truly, truly. I think no one ever loved as much. Am I not a fortunate girl! When I am working--you don't mind my rattling on?" "Say what is in your heart, Lizzie." "When I am at work, I whisper to myself, 'Charlie! Charlie!' and I talk to him just as though he was next to me. And Charlie tells me he does the same by me--so that we're always together. The moon is shining through the window, Mrs. Lenoir. Is it a watery moon? Go and see if it is sure to be fine to morrow." Mrs. Lenoir goes to the window and draws the curtain aside. A shudder passes over her as she sees how bright and clear and beautiful the night is. "Is it a fine night, Mrs. Lenoir?" "Clear and bright, Lizzie. There is no sign of rain. To-morrow will be a lovely day." "I am so happy!" Mrs. Lenoir resumes her seat by the bedside. "Do not take any notice of me, Lizzie. I will sit here quite quietly, and when you are asleep, I will go to my room." So long a silence follows--or it seems so long to the happy girl--that she falls into a doze, to be but partially aroused by Mrs. Lenoir's voice, calling very softly: "Lizzie!" "Yes, Charlie!" Thus betraying herself. "It is not Charlie; it is I, Mrs. Lenoir." "Oh, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Lenoir. What a foolish girl you must think me--and how ungrateful!" "Not at all, Lizzie; it is I who am inconsiderate in keeping you awake. I will say goodnight."