It is
rather a remarkable coincidence that you should put it on to-night."
"Harold!" she cried, springing forward and catching his arm
convulsively in both her hands, "what has happened? What is it? And
how can you talk so calmly when to me it seems--"
He put his arm around her. "Seems what?" he said, soothingly. "Did
_you_ have a dream, too?"
"Yes," she said, her face turning a shade paler, "I had a dream."
"And in it you wore this dress?"
"Yes."
"Tell me your dream."
"No!" she exclaimed, "I cannot."
Dartmouth put his hand under her chin and pushed her head back
against his shoulder, upturning her face. "You must tell me," he said,
quietly; "every word of it! I am not asking you out of curiosity, but
because the dream I had was too remarkable to be without meaning. I
cannot reach that meaning unassisted; but with your help I believe I
can. So tell me at once."
"Oh, Harold!" she cried, throwing her arms suddenly about him and
clinging to him, "I have no one else to speak to but you: I cannot
tell my father; he would not understand.
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