“You have decided right, and I have no doubt you will be amply remunerated for the seeming sacrifice you are making of the few days of happiness you would have had in longer remaining here, had not the summons come for you to leave.”

“I do not doubt it; and yet Miss Vernon, I need your atmosphere.  How I wish our lives could mingle for awhile.”

“If there ever comes a time when no earthly tie binds you, when duty will permit you to follow this attraction, come and live with us, and remain as long as you wish.”

“With you?” exclaimed the astonished girl.  “Can I?  Is Mr. Wyman willing?”

“He has authorized me to invite you.”

“But would it be right?  Will it certainly be agreeable to him?”

“Most assuredly.  We all love you, and as for Mr. Wyman, he never invites those to his home in whom he has no interest.  So come.  I know you will.”

“Thank him, for me,” warmly responded Miss Weston, “and I trust the time will arrive when I can more practically demonstrate how much I thank you all for your kindness.”

The morning was spent by Miss Weston in packing her trunk, and making ready for her departure, much to the surprise of Mr. Wyman, and to the disappointment of Mr. Deane, who had hoped for a longer enjoyment of hours of communion with one so rich in goodness and innocence of heart.

In her atmosphere all his hardness seemed to pass away.  She was balm to his troubled soul; light to his darkened vision.  She would go that day, and life, busy life, close over the fresh, happy hours, and perchance never again before his vision would come that fair young face.

He asked permission to ride with her to the station, and see to her baggage and tickets.  It was cheerfully granted, and in a moment all was over.  The train came, stopped but a second, then moved on, and was soon hid from sight by a sharp curve.  Then his past life came over this little break, this brief respite, and he felt that he, too, was ready to go and kindle anew the waning flame upon his domestic hearth.

Dawn, to the surprise of her father, was greatly delighted when she found Miss Weston was going.

“She is wanted there; some one in the air told me,” she said, and clapped her hands in glee.

Her departure made quite a break in the little party, and when Mr. Deane made ready to go the next day, Florence and Mr. Wyman both felt that their own stay was about over.

Judge of their surprise two days after, to receive a note from Miss Weston, saying that her aunt had been seized with paralysis of the brain the day she arrived, and would not recover.

Every test of this nature strengthened Mr. Wyman in the belief in his daughter’s vision, and he felt that there could be no safer light placed in his path for him to follow; a light which no more interferes with man’s individuality or reasoning powers than the falling of the rays of the sun upon the earth.