"In your dreams, dearie, it always seems as if Ethel had been with you that day when you were struggling to get out of the fire. Once you cried out, 'Ethel, Ethel, the rope is finished, and you are going down first, then I will follow. And you will catch me if I fall!' Then again you cried: 'The rope has broken. Ethel, are you hurt? No, no, I cannot jump now! I am lost! lost! lost!'" The beautiful eyes of Precious grew wild and startled. "Oh, what strange dreams!" she cried tremblingly. "I wish you had not listened, Norah; they were only dreams!" "Yes, I know, my pet, but they show that you are not quite strong yet, and it is better not to go about into society until you are well again. But I think you ought to have some young girls to visit you, and I will ask your brother to bring that little star-eyed village girl to see you." "She is here now!" cried Earle's voice, with a ripple of laughter in its low music. They started and looked, and there he stood with a dripping figure by his side, a girl in white flannel, bareheaded, with wet brown curls all over her little head, and starry hazel eyes alight with laughter. "Miss Conway has had an accident--fallen into the river, Precious, and I brought her up here for some of your dry clothes, also to make your acquaintance, as I knew you were lonely," explained Earle easily. "You poor darling!" cried Precious, and her heart went out to the little beauty in a swift rush of tenderness. She took Ladybird's hand. "Come, let us go upstairs. My clothes will fit you, I know!" Earle detained them a moment. "I am going down to the telegraph office a moment. Please stay here till I come back, Miss Conway. I will take you home in due time." "I thank you," Ladybird answered with a stiff little courtesy, then she followed Precious and Norah upstairs. Some dry garments were soon found, and Norah took the wet ones away. "You shall have them nice and dry directly," she said kindly, but as she took her way kitchenward, she mused: "This pretty girl reminds me very, very much of the lovely Miss Clendenon, Mrs. Winans' girl-friend, that afterward married Mr. Bruce Conway. This one is like her, but it could not be her daughter, for the little one she named for my mistress, Grace Willard, died before it was a year old, and poor Mrs. Conway, sweet little soul, died herself two years after, and I never heard that she left a child, although to be sure we were abroad then, and when we got home all the Conways were dead but Mr. Bruce, and he had disappeared. He always was a rolling stone." Meanwhile the two young girls, left alone in the beautiful airy room upstairs, proceeded to get acquainted. "I don't feel any worse from my ducking, dear, but I'll lie on the bed awhile and rest," cried Ladybird, rumpling up her wet curls with taper fingers. "Do, dear, and tell me all about it. How did you happen to fall in?" asked Precious. "It's a long story, Miss Winans," laughingly.