passed in at the door; and even reached out her hand to touch, reverently, the soft, white robe. "It is so good to have her always gliding in and out about her work," she said, clasping her hands. "She's so sweet, and so much company;—and I love to think about her. Why, I can just lean back here and shut my eyes— Why, what was that?"and Marjorie started up, opening her eyes, suddenly.
"Some one went in," remarked the Dream, carelessly.
"But, who was it?" and Marjorie turned anxious eyes toward the door.
"Well, it looked a little like Idleness,—I guess that's who it was."
"But what shall I do?" cried Marjorie. "I don't want Idleness in there. She isn't nice at all."
"No," agreed the Dream, "and she'll telephone to Laziness and Gossip and Procrastination. It's bad business."
"Well, she's got to come out!" cried Marjorie, springing to her feet, energetically.
"She's out," said the Dream.
"Why, how do you know," asked Marjorie.
"Well, I just peeped through the door and
