'Good-night, little Miss Donne,' she said, so low that the others could

not hear distinctly. 'It is the setting sun that bids you good-night,

child--you, the dawn and the sun of to-morrow!' Margaret pressed the kind hand, and a moment later her teacher was

hurrying her back through the dark wilderness of the stage to the

brilliant house beyond. Schreiermeyer had already disappeared without

so much as a word.




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