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The Magic

           Shescarcelydaredtostir;butatlastshepushedthebedclothesaside,andputherfeetonthefloorwitharapturoussmile.

           "Iamdreaming—Iamgettingoutofbed,"sheheardherownvoicesay;andthen,asshestoodupinthemidstofitall,turningslowlyfromsidetoside—"Iamdreamingitstays—real!I’mdreamingitFEELSreal.It’sbewitched—orI’mbewitched.IonlyTHINKIseeitall."Herwordsbegantohurrythemselves."IfIcanonlykeeponthinkingit,"shecried,"Idon’tcare!Idon’tcare!"

           Shestoodpantingamomentlonger,andthencriedoutagain.

           "Oh,itisn’ttrue!"shesaid."ItCAN’Tbetrue!Butoh,howtrueitseems!"

           Theblazingfiredrewhertoit,andshekneltdownandheldoutherhandsclosetoit—soclosethattheheatmadeherstartback.

           "AfireIonlydreamedwouldn’tbeHOT,"shecried.

           Shesprangup,touchedthetable,thedishes,therug;shewenttothebedandtouchedtheblankets.Shetookupthesoftwaddeddressing-gown,andsuddenlyclutchedittoherbreastandheldittohercheek.

           "It’swarm.It’ssoft!"shealmostsobbed."It’sreal.Itmustbe!"

           Shethrewitoverhershoulders,andputherfeetintotheslippers.

           "Theyarereal,too.It’sallreal!"shecried."IamNOT—IamNOTdreaming!"

           Shealmoststaggeredtothebooksandopenedtheonewhichlayuponthetop.Somethingwaswrittenontheflyleaf—justafewwords,andtheywerethese:

           "Tothelittlegirlintheattic.Fromafriend."

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Roboto Lora
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