[TO THE EDITOR OP THE "SPECTATOR."]
Sin,—The "dream house" described in the Spectator of June 1st reminds me of a "dream room" of my own experience. During the early years of the "sixties," I repeatedly dreamed that I was in a room, in which I was quite certain I had never been in real life, engaged in a very important and distressing conversation with some one whose face I never saw and whose voice was strange to me. On telling a friend about this dream, she remarked : "You may be sure that some day you will be in that room in actual life." At least seven years afterwards I went on a visit to some friends (with whom, I must premise, I was quite unacquainted when the dream first visited me) for the purpose of helping to clear up a painful estrange- ment between them and a mutual friend, and on the morning after my arrival the master of the house invited me into his study to talk over the matter. On entering the room, I had an odd feeling of knowing it already (though I had never been in the house before), but it was not till our talk was over that the full conviction came to me : "Of course, this is my dream room." I will only add that from the date of this conversation the dream entirely forsook
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