A rest deeper than that of sleep came over her. She closed her eyes to shut out the darkness, and retain the vision, and remained thus until slowly the golden orb of day rolled his chariot over the eastern hills, when reluctantly she arose, and the heavenly spell was broken.
“Dear Pearl, how good you are to come and see us,” burst from the lips of Dawn, when, two hours later, she entered the parlor of her teacher and clasped the hand of Miss Weston. “I shall claim her to-day; may I not, Florence?” and without waiting for a reply, she carried her to her own home.
They talked long and earnestly; Dawn's description of her travels entertaining her guest exceedingly, and it was noon ere they were aware that one half of the morning had passed away.
“And now I have talked long enough, and will stop; but may I ask you where you propose to spend the coming winter? If you are not positively engaged, I want you to stay with Florence and myself.”
“I am going to the quiet little town of B—, to remain for an indefinite period with some dear friends, relatives of my dear Edward, who have just returned from Europe. I had a letter from them yesterday, saying they were all safe at home, and should be looking for me next week.”
“Then all my plans must fail.”
“As far as having me here for so long a time; but how I wish you could know Ralph and Marion, Dawn.-Why, what is the matter; what is it, dear Dawn?”
“Nothing but a sharp pain. It's all over now. Were your friends in-in Paris last month?” her voice trembled as she spoke.
“Yes. But how pale you look. Dawn, you must be ill.”
“I am not. I did not sleep well last night. But Pearl, I have seen your friends.”