"Not he! He is living, and more alive than he ever was. He comes to me
often."

"When you are asleep, I suppose."

"You suppose right. But, Harry, can you tell me what passes in that
state of sleep when I or you or any other sleeper is shut up from every
human eye; when all the doors of the body are closed, and all the
windows darkened? Speak, my lad, of what you know something about, but
dreaming is a mystery to far wiser men than you are, or are likely to
be--unless Wisdom should visit you while you are dreaming."

"Well, mother, I am going away for a year, and during that time I shall
forget the Naylors and they will forget me."

"Whatever are you talking about, Harry Hatton? I will not hear of you
going on such a journey--no matter where to, so now you know."

"It is John's advice."

"It is very poor advice. For steady living in, there is no place like
Yorkshire."

"I was telling John today what I have often told you, how I hated the
mill, how sick it made me, and that I must sell my interest in it in
order to do something else. Then John made me a proposal, and if you
think well of it I will do as John advises. But let us go to the porch,
it is so hot here. It feels like the dog days."

"No wonder, with the toggery you have on your back. Whatever in the