"Will he be long before he's down, do you suppose, Aunt Mary?"
"I hear him getting up, Frank. He is early this morning because you are here."
And, indeed, in a minute or two the major entered: his flowery silk dressing-gown—all the worse for wear, like the children's clothes—flowing around him, his hearty voice sending forth its greeting. For some little time the children kept up an incessant fire of questions; Frank could not get one in. But his turn came.
"Have you remembered that, Uncle Francis, now that you have slept upon it?"
The major looked across the table. Just for the moment he did not speak. Frank went on eagerly.
"Sometimes things that have dropped out of our memory come back to us in a dream. I have heard of instances. Did it chance so to you last night, uncle?"
"My dear boy, I dreamt that a great big shark with