Page:Emily Climbs.pdf/272

ders with laughter over her predicament. The fire in the stove reflected out in the clearing seemed like a mocking goblin bonfire under the firs. Beyond it, through the woods, were unfathomable spaces of white storm. For a moment Emily wished she were out in them—there would be freedom there from this fetter of terrible delight that had so suddenly and inexplicably made her a prisoner—her, who hated bonds.

“Am I falling in love with Teddy?” she thought. “I won’t—I won't.”

Perry, quite unconscious of all that had happened in the wink of an eye to Teddy and Emily, yawned and stretched.

“Guess we'd better hit the hay—the candles are about done. I guess that straw will make a real good bed for us, Ted. Let’s carry enough out and pile it on the bedstead in there to make a comfortable roost for the girls. With one of the fur rugs over it, it won’t be so bad. We ought to have some high old dreams tonight—Ilse especially. Wonder 1f she’s sober yet?”

“I’ve a pocket full of dreams to sell,” said Teddy, whimsically, with a new, unaccountable gaiety of voice and manner. “What d’ye lack? What d’ye lack? A dream of success—a dream of adventure—a dream of the sea—a dream of the woodland—any kind of a dream you want at reasonable prices, including one or two unique little nightmares, What will you give me for a dream?”

Emily turned around—stared at him for a moment—then forgot thrills and spells and everything else in a wild longing for a Jimmy-book. As if his question, “What will you give me for a dream?” had been a magic formula opening some sealed chamber in her brain, she saw unrolling before her a dazzling idea for a story—complete even to the title—A Seller of Dreams. For the rest of that night Emily thought of nothing else.

The boys went off to their straw couch, and Emily, after deciding to leave Ilse, who seemed comfortable, on the sofa as long as she slept, lay down on the bed in the