'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.