Dawn laid the cold, white hands on the breast of the sleeper, and went out of the chamber where a soul had had its new birth, with deepened emotions of life, and its claims upon humanity.

The next instant she was clasped to the warm heart of her father, and nestled closely there until the weary lids closed, and sleep descended upon her.

He held her through her slumber, and prayed for strength to bear the separations which must come between himself and child; for most clearly did he perceive that God had mapped out for her a labor that would call her from his side.

“May I never shadow the rays of the Infinite,” he said, just as she awoke.

“How clear it is; some cloud seems to have been removed from me,” spoke Dawn, looking up into his eyes, not perfectly comprehending all.  “I may work in my own way, now you have some one to love beside me; may I not?”

“Not for worlds, my child, would I hinder you in your mission of usefulness, and if in the past, I have been selfish, I am not now.  Go and come at your pleasure; bring whom you will to your home, and my blessings shall rest on them and you.”

Dawn had no words with which to express her gratitude.  The tears, that in spite of her efforts to keep them back, would glisten in her eyes, indicated the depth of her feelings, and the love she cherished for her father.  From that moment their lives flowed like a river, in a deeper and broader channel, and many bright flowers blossomed on its margin giving hope to the despairing, rest and strength to the weary and fainting pilgrims of time.

They made a grave under a willow, and engraved on a plain, white stone, the simple word:  Margaret.

Parents and child had met in the world beyond, to grow into daily recognition of, and unfold in a more genial clime, their individual lives.

Mrs. Thorne (Margaret’s step-mother) had died a year previous to the time when Dawn found the old man in the city, looking for his daughter.

After Margaret’s departure from home, he became dull and listless, and finally deranged.  What subtle attraction led him to the city where Margaret was stopping, few can comprehend; but to those who fully realize that guardian angels watch over and guide us, the mystery is solved, and it, like many other seemingly strange things of life, made clear in the light of that faith.

It was for woman that Dawn labored, for through her elevation she saw that the whole race must ascend.  All should know that men will be great if women are; and it is a truth that is daily becoming more evident, that he must be reached through her.  In a Hindoo fable, Vishna is represented as following Maga through a series of transformations.  When she is an insect, he becomes an insect; she changes to an elephant, and he becomes one of the same species; till at last she becomes a woman, and he a man; she a goddess, and he a god.  So, outside the regions of fable, if woman is ignorant and frivolous, man will be ignorant and frivolous; if woman rises she will take man up with her.