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.”
“I am glad you do, Dawn. And now tell me why you love her.”
“I love her because she is white.”
“You mean that she is pure. I think she is.”
“Yes. I mean that and something else.”
“What?”