their minds not to. But I'm always there just the same; it makes no
difference what they do. They can't help themselves. Only it's better
for them just to remember me a little, because then it's much safer for
them. You've been feeling rather lonely lately, haven't you?"

"Yes," she said. "It's stupid now all by myself. There's nobody to ask
questions of."

"Well, there's somebody else in your house who's lonely."

"Is there?" She couldn't think of any one.

"Yes. Your father."

"Oh! Father----" She was uninterested.

"Yes. You see, if he isn't----" and then, at that, he was gone, she was
alone and fast asleep.

In the morning when she awoke, she remembered it all quite clearly, but,
of course, it had all been a dream. "Such a funny dream," she told her
nurse, but she would give out no details.

"Some food she's been eating," said her nurse.

Nevertheless, when, on that afternoon, coming in from her walk, she met
her dark, grubby little father in the hall, she did stay for a moment on
the bottom step of the stairs to consider him.

"I've been for a walk, daddy," she said, and then, rather frightened at