Dawn looked into the old minister's eyes with her own wide, lovely ones, and won his heart. She reminded him of his little girl who had died.
"I suppose not," he said in a half amused tone. "But don't you think it would be better for you to confide in me? Just tell me your real name, and where you come from, and all about it, and then I can help you better. I shall be able to recommend you, you know."
"Thank you, no," said Dawn decidedly, getting up as if that ended the matter. "If I told you that, and then you were asked if I were here, you would have to say yes. Then, too, if you knew, you might think it was your duty to let my friends know where I am. Now you have no responsibility about it at all, don't you see? But I don't want to make you any trouble. If you don't know of some work I might do here, I will go elsewhere. I can surely find something to do without telling my real name. I know I am doing right. You were so kind when you spoke to me yesterday, that I thought I would come and ask though I had intended going on this morning."
"Wait," said the minister. "Sit down. What do you want to do? What kind of work are you fitted for?"
"I have been educated at a good school," said Dawn, sitting down and putting on a quaint little business-like air which made the minister smile.
"Did you ever teach school?" There was much hesitation in the minister's voice. He was not altogether sure he was doing right to suggest the idea, she was such a child in looks.
"No, but I could," replied Dawn confidently. "And, oh, I should like it! It is just what I want. I love to show people how to do things, and make them learn correctly. I used to help the girls at school." There was great eagerness in her face. The minister thought how lovely she was, and again that fleeting likeness to his dead child gripped his heart.
"You are very young," he mused, watching the changing expression on her face, and thinking that his child would have been about this girl's age.
"I am almost seventeen," said Dawn, drawing herself up gravely.
"Our village schoolmaster left very suddenly last week, to go to his invalid mother's bedside, and it may be some months before his return. Indeed, it is possible that he will not come back at all. He intimated as much before he left. We have not had opportunity as yet to find another teacher, and the school has been dismissed for a few days until we can look about for a substitute."