Table of Contents
＋ Add to Library
- Did she sleep? Dream? Who knows? Emily herself never knew. Twice before in her
- life—once in delirium*—once in sleep** she had drawn aside the veil of sense
- and time and seen beyond. Emily never liked to remember those experiences. She
- forgot them deliberately. She had not recalled them for years. A dream—a fancy
- fever-bred. But this?
- * See _Emily of New Moon._ ** See _Emily Climbs._
- A small cloud seemed to shape itself within the gazing-ball. It
- dispersed—faded. But the reflected doll's-house in the ball was gone. Emily
- saw an entirely different scene—a long lofty room filled with streams of
- hurrying people—and among them a face she knew.
- The gazing-ball was gone—the room in the Disappointed House was gone. She was
- no longer sitting in her chair looking on. She was _in_ that strange, great
- room—she was among those throngs of people—she was standing by the man who was
- waiting impatiently before a ticket-window. As he turned his face and their
- eyes met she saw that it was Teddy—she saw the amazed recognition in his eyes.
- And she knew, indisputably that he was in some terrible danger—and that _she_
- must save him.
- "Teddy. _Come."_
- It seemed to her that she caught his hand and pulled him away from the window.
- Then she was drifting back from him—back—back—and he was following—running
- after her—heedless of the people he ran into—following—following—she was back
- on the chair—outside of the gazing-ball—in it she still saw the station-room
- shrunk again to play-size—and that one figure running—still running—the cloud
- again—filling the ball—whitening—wavering—thinning—clearing. Emily was lying
- back in her chair staring fixedly into Aunt Nancy's gazing-ball, where the
- living-room was reflected calmly and silverly, with a dead-white spot that was
- her face and one solitary taper-light twinkling like an impish star.