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To Mrs. Crane, Quarry Farm:
DUBLIN, Sept. 24, '05.
Susy dear, I have had a lovely dream. Livy, dressed in black, was
sitting up in my bed (here) at my right and looking as young and sweet
as she used to do when she was in health. She said: “what is the name of
your sweet sister?” I said, “Pamela.” “Oh, yes, that is it, I thought it
was--” (naming a name which has escaped me) “Won't you write it down for
me?” I reached eagerly for a pen and pad--laid my hands upon both--then
said to myself, “It is only a dream,” and turned back sorrowfully and
there she was, still. The conviction flamed through me that our lamented
disaster was a dream, and this a reality. I said, “How blessed it is,
how blessed it is, it was all a dream, only a dream!” She only smiled
and did not ask what dream I meant, which surprised me. She leaned her
head against mine and I kept saying, “I was perfectly sure it was a
dream, I never would have believed it wasn't.”
I think she said several things, but if so they are gone from my memory.
I woke and did not know I had been dreaming. She was gone. I wondered
how she could go without my knowing it, but I did not spend any thought
upon that, I was too busy thinking of how vivid and real was the dream
that we had lost her and how unspeakably blessed it was to find that it
was not true and that she was still ours and with us.