"They wouldn’t have told you my real name if you had asked," said she, showing her dimples in a smile answering to his. "I was christened Jemima, but my mother, my own dear mother, who died a good many years ago, told me my name was Dawn, and she always called me that. She wouldn’t consent to my being named Jemima until she found out that the meaning of it was ’Dawn of the Morning,’ and she always called me that. I always made everybody at school call me so too. They did not know the other name at school. I love the name because my mother loved it, and said it meant something sweet and dear to her." She looked up, and the eyes she met were full of sweet understanding. "Dawn! What a beautiful name! How glad I am it is that! It just fits you as I saw you first. You might have been personifying Dawn. You shall be the Dawn of my morning always." They were in sight of the stage-coach now, and as they saw that the driver was preparing to start, they had to hurry to it, so they had no further opportunity to talk; but each had been given a vision into the heart of the other. Dawn was still ignorant of where she was going, and as she sat in the coach and saw others climbing in to fill the seats, she suddenly realized that there would be no more opportunity now for the questions she should have asked while they were walking. But she had hesitated to spoil their pleasant walk, and had dismissed her fears and troubles, entering into the spirit that Charles had seemed to manifest. As he sat close beside her through the long miles, his arm rested against hers, and now and again came a gentle pressure, as if he would let her know he was there. Then the remembrance of his lips upon hers swelled over her in a mingling of remorse and joy, and her heart cried out to itself, "Oh, I love him! I love him! What shall I do? If I only were not married, perhaps I might have him for a friend. I never had a real friend. But now, I suppose, I can never see him any more." By and by, when they stopped to change horses, Charles found seats for them on the top of the coach with the driver. It was lovely up there, with a wide view of the beautiful country through which they were riding, and no one to bother them; for the old coach driver was not of a garrulous disposition, as most of those worthies were, and they had their talk to themselves. Still, he was there, and Dawn dared venture no more confidential questions. The day drew to a close, and they came to the last change of horses before reaching the home of the Winthrops. CHAPTER XIV "We are almost home," said Charles joyously. He felt that it was a very happy moment. "Oh, are we going to your home?" she asked, catching her breath and wondering what that meant. "Why, yes, didn’t you know? I supposed Mrs. Van Rensselaer would tell you all the plans. She said you did not wish to come down to talk them over beforehand."