“My brief, happy days so soon, O, how soon, gone by, and over,” she said, after she had closed the door; and she sank on her knees and prayed as only those have prayed before, in like trouble.

She knew not how long she knelt there, but she was roused by Dawn’s sweet voice, which was always music to her soul, saying, “Please, may I come, Miss Vernon?”

She rose and held out her arms to receive the little one, who stood hesitatingly on the threshold of the library, then pressing the dear child to her heart, found a sweet sense of relief in doing so.

“I know what makes you feel so, Miss Vernon.”

“What, Dawn, tell me all you feel,” and she sank upon a seat and rested her face on her hand.

“I was looking over the drawings, and feeling very happy, when the room grew dark and cold, so cold I was frightened.  Then I heard something say, ‘Fear not, Dawn,’ and I laid my head down upon the couch, and saw you standing in a damp, cold valley, on either side of which were beautiful green mountains, whose tops overlooked all the towns around.  They were so steep that no one could climb them.  While you stood there, a great cloud came directly over your head.  It was full of rain, and it burst and flooded the whole valley.  I feared you would be drowned; but you rose with the water, instead of its going over you, and when the tide was as high as the mountain, you stepped to its highest point, on the beautiful green grass, and sat down.  Slowly the waters went down and left you on the mountain-top, where you could never have gone without the flood.  Then I looked up, and the room was all full of sunshine just as it was before.  I felt cold, and I heard the women go, and then-”

“Then what, Dawn?”

“Then I came to you.  The cloud is over you now, but the high green mountain is more lovely than the valley, and overlooks all the pleasant vales and hills around.  Do you care if the clouds burst now, Miss Vernon?”

“No, child, I will stand firm and sure while the rain descends.  O, Dawn, so justly named, come and soothe my brow, for it aches so hard.”

The child passed her soft, white hands over the forehead of Miss Vernon, and the throbbing pain passed away under her magic touch.

The bell rang for dinner long before they were ready for the summons, but they soon took their places at the table, yet with little appetite for food.

“A poor compliment you pay my dinner,” said Aunt Susan, as she came to remove the dishes, and prepare for dessert.  “I suppose you are both lonely without Mr. Wyman.  I, too, miss his pleasant face and smile to-day.”

How Miss Vernon wished she had not spoken his name just then.

The form of dinner over, Miss Vernon and Dawn dressed themselves for their walk, knowing that they must start in good season, as it was a long way to the house, and they would need to rest a little before their return.