“You know better than that, Mabel; but I-we both are sadly out of harmony; perhaps have exhausted each other.  Let us part, and each find ourselves.  We shall be brighter and happier when we come together, Mabel; shall we not?” and he laid his hand tenderly on her head.

O, why cannot two at least see things in their true light?  Why was it that she remained so blind to the real state of affairs?  Either ignorance or wilfulness kept her from the light, and coldly bidding him good night, she left the room.

The next day was indeed gloomy.  Mabel’s parents had become acquainted, not with the facts, but with a distorted view of the case, and in their eyes she was a greatly abused woman.  It was no longer any use for her husband to exert himself for their happiness, the poison of prejudice had entered their minds, and tinctured every thought.

It was a painful parting.  Misconception on one side, and deep suffering with pride, upon the other.  No lighting of the eyes, no pressure of the hand, no warm good-bye, to keep his heart alive while she was away.

He stood, after the cars had left, deeply pondering the strange affair, until the crowd jostled him, and brought him back to the external world, with its toil, its sounds of mirth, and its varied forms of life.

What a break in his usual peaceful life; what a void he found in his soul when he entered the silent home.  There was no lingering atmosphere of love about the rooms; everything was put away out of sight.  The order was painful, and he left to seek companionship if not sympathy.

CHAPTER X.

“What is it like, Dawn?”

“Like a great Soul that has absorbed a million lives into its own, and cannot rest, it is so full of joy and sadness,” and she fixed her gaze more intently on the foam-crested waves.

It was the first time she had seen the ocean, and her father’s keen enjoyment watching her enraptured, wondering gaze, afforded Miss Vernon another source of pleasure, aside from the wide expanse of beauty, which stretched from shore to horizon.

The three, according to Mr. Wyman’s promise, had come to enjoy the pleasures and beauties of the seaside for a few weeks, as well as to see the different phases of human character which were daily thronging there.

It was intensely interesting to Miss Vernon to watch the child’s eager interest in this glorious display of nature, and her strange insight into the character of the people with whom they were in daily contact.

There was one faint, gentle girl, about twenty years of age, who walked every evening alone, and whom Miss Vernon watched with great interest.

“I like her, too,” said Dawn, coming close to her teacher one evening, as she walked up and down on the beach.

“Who? and how do you know I like her.”

“Why, the lady there, walking in front of us.  I feel you like her.”