those closed eyes hard enough to set you to thinking."
Marjorie nodded her head several times. "I see," said she; "but then, it doesn't apply to me, for I always have my eyes open."
"Do you?" said the Dream, with a provoking grin.
"Why, of course I do," said Marjorie. "I see just about everything that's going on."
"You didn't see your brother a moment ago, when we passed him in the road."
"My brother!" exclaimed Marjorie. "Why, I haven't any brother!" and she looked all about and up and down the pleasant country road along which she now noticed, for the first time, that they were traveling.
"No?" said the Dream, aggravatingly. "Who is that sitting back there by the tree?"
Marjorie looked, and saw, a short distance behind them, a small boy sitting by the wayside with his face in his hands. He looked so pathetic and crouched so forlornly, that Marjorie turned and went back. "What is the matter?" she asked, as she approached him.
The boy looked up, and she saw that his face was weary and his mouth quivering with pain.
