The fingers strayed a little and touched the feathery sprays and lingered—questioning. “It is the woods! You have brought me the woods!” The little cry of joy trembled in her voice. “I shall sleep now.”
He bent and kissed her. “Good-night, mother.”
“Good-night, my son..”
In the dusky, fragrant room she fell asleep, like a child, and she dreamed that she was-a child and wandered in a wood and that an angel with shining eyes came to her and walked with her under the green branches and when he went away she cried to him and he turned and kissed her and said—
“I have brought your breakfast, mother.” So she wakened to another day.