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"Good night, dear father," she whispered, softly. "May Heaven watch over
your labors, and keep you from all harm."
With this pious prayer, she slid into her warm nest. But, before
adjusting her limbs for sleep, she threw off a portion of the heavy
blankets which had weighed upon her, and was soon sound asleep, and
dreaming of a garden in which all the roses were beautiful new bonnets.
Still the moon played her ghastly metamorphoses in the little chamber.
And the figures on the carpet and the figures on the curtain writhed in
horrible contortions of glee, as if they rejoiced over a calamity which
had befallen that house.

CHAPTER V.
WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT.
The child woke about seven o'clock. She knew the time by the sun's rays
upon the window curtains. In that strong, cheerful light, the phantom
faces had shrunk back to great red bunches of flowers again. She thought
of the absurd dream, or vision, as of something that had happened ages
ago, and wondered that she had been foolish enough to be frightened
by it.
There was no noise in her father's room.


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