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diff --git a/17260-0.txt b/17260-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..351905a --- /dev/null +++ b/17260-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10928 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE *** + + + + +Tempest and Sunshine + +By Mary J. Holmes +New York +J. H. Sears & Company +1909 + + + + + +CONTENTS + + +Chapter I +Chapter II +Chapter III +Chapter IV +Chapter V +Chapter VI +Chapter VII +Chapter VIII +Chapter IX +Chapter X +Chapter XI +Chapter XII +Chapter XIII +Chapter XIV +Chapter XV +Chapter XVI +Chapter XVII +Chapter XVIII +Chapter XIX +Chapter XX +Chapter XXI +Chapter XXII +Chapter XXIII +Chapter XXIV +Chapter XXV +Chapter XXVI + + + + + + + TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE + + + + + + CHAPTER I + + + MR. WILMOT ARRIVES AT MR. MIDDLETON’S + + +It was the afternoon of a bright October day. The old town clock had just +tolled the hour of four, when the Lexington and Frankfort daily stage was +heard rattling over the stony pavement in the small town of V——, Kentucky. +In a few moments the four panting steeds were reined up before the door of +The Eagle, the principal hotel in the place. "Mine host," a middle-aged, +pleasant-looking man, came hustling out to inspect the newcomers, and +calculate how many would do justice to his beefsteaks, strong coffee, +sweet potatoes and corn cakes, which were being prepared in the kitchen by +Aunt Esther. + +This good dame divided her time between squeezing the steaks, turning the +corn cakes, kicking the dogs and administering various cuffs to sundry +little black urchins, who were on the lookout to snatch a bit of the "hoe +cake" whenever they could elude the argus eyes of Aunt Esther. When the +rattling of the stage was heard, there ensued a general scrambling to +ascertain which would be first to see who had come. At length, by a series +of somersaults, helped on by Aunt Esther’s brawny hand, the kitchen was +cleared and Aunt Esther was "monarch of all she surveyed." + +The passengers this afternoon were few and far between, for there was but +one inside and one on the box with the driver. The one inside alighted and +ordered his baggage to be carried into the hotel. The stranger was a young +man, apparently about twenty-five years of age. He was tall, +well-proportioned and every way prepossessing in his appearance. At least +the set of idlers in the barroom thought so, for the moment he entered +they all directed their eyes and tobacco juice toward him! + +By the time he had uttered a dozen words, they had come to the conclusion +that he was a stranger in the place and was from the East. One of the men, +a Mr. Edson, was, to use his own words, "mighty skeary of Northern folks," +and as soon as he became convinced that the stranger was from that way, he +got up, thinking to himself, "Some confounded Abolitionist, I’ll warrant. +The sooner I go home and get my gang together, the better ’twill be." But +on second thought he concluded that "his gang" was safe, for the present +at least; so he’d just sit down and hear what his neighbor, Mr. Woodburn, +was saying to the newcomer. + +The Kentuckians are as famous as the Yankees for inquisitiveness, but if +they inquire into your history, they are equally ready to give theirs to +you, and you cannot feel as much annoyed by the kind, confiding manner +with which a Kentuckian will draw you out, as by the cool, quizzing way +with which a Yankee will "guess" out your affairs. + +On the present occasion, Mr. Woodburn had conjectured the young man’s +business, and was anxious to know who he was, and, if possible, to render +him assistance. It took but a short time for the stranger to tell that he +was from the East, from New York; that his name was Wilmot, and that he +was in quest of a school; and in as short a time Mr. Woodburn had welcomed +young Wilmot to Kentucky, but expressed his regrets that he did not come +sooner, for all the schools were engaged. "But," added he, "you had better +remain around here awhile and get acquainted, and then there will be no +doubt of your eventually getting a situation. Meantime, as you are a +stranger here, you are welcome to make my house your home." + +Such kindness from an entire stranger was unlooked for by Wilmot. He knew +not what to make of it; it was so different from the cold, money-making +men of the North. He tried to stammer out his thanks, when Mr. Edson +interrupted him by nudging Mr. Woodburn and saying: "Don’t you mind old +Middleton. He’s been tarin’ round after a Yankee teacher these six weeks. +I reckon this chap’ll suit." + +Mr. Woodburn hesitated. He did not like to send Mr. Wilmot to such a place +as Mr. Middleton’s, for though Mr. Middleton was a very kind man, he was +very rough and uncouth in his manner and thought his money much better +applied when at interest than when employed to make his house and family +more comfortable. + +At length Mr. Woodburn replied: "True, I did not think of Mr. Middleton, +but I hardly like to send a stranger there. However, Mr. Wilmot, you must +not judge all Kentuckians by him, for though he is very hospitable to +strangers, he is extremely rough." + +Mr. Wilmot thanked them for their information and said he thought he would +go to Mr. Middleton’s that night. + +"Lord knows how you’ll get there," said Mr. Edson. + +"Why, is it far?" asked Wilmot. + +"Not very far," said Mr. Edson, "little better than four miles, but a +mighty mean road at any time and a heap worse since the rains. For a spell +you can get on right smart, but then, again, you’ll go in co-slush!" + +Mr. Wilmot smiled, but said he "thought he would try the road if Mr. Edson +would give him the direction." + +Then followed a host of directions, of which the most prominent to Wilmot +were, that "about two miles from the house is an old hemp factory, full of +niggers, singing like all fury; then comes a piece of woods, in the middle +of which is a gate on the left hand; open that gate and follow the road +straight till you come to the mightiest, mean-looking house you ever seen, +I reckon; one chimbley tumbled down, and t’other trying to. That is +Middleton’s." + +Here Mr. Woodburn said, "That as the road was so bad, and it was getting +late, Mr. Wilmot had better stay at his house that night and the next day +they would send him to Middleton’s." + +Before Mr. Wilmot had time to reply, Mr. Edson called out, "Halloo! Just +in time, Wilmot!" Then rushing to the door he screamed, "Ho! Jim Crow, you +jackanapes, what you ridin’ Prince full jump down the pike for? Say, you +scapegrace, come up here!" + +Mr. Wilmot looked from the window and saw a fine looking black boy of +about sixteen years of age riding a beautiful horse at full speed through +the street. He readily divined that the boy was the property of Mr. Edson, +and as he had brought from home a little abolitionism safely packed away, +he expected to see a few cuffs dealt out to the young African. But when +the young hopeful, at the command of his master, wheeled his horse up to +the door, gave a flourish with his rimless old hat and a loud whistle with +his pouting lips, Mr. Wilmot observed that his master gave the bystanders +a knowing wink, as much as to say, "Isn’t he smart?" Then turning to the +boy he said, "How now, you Jim, what are you here for, riding Prince to +death?" + +"I begs marster’s pardon berry much," said the negro, "but you see how I +done toted all the taters you told me, and missis she ’vise me to ride +Prince a leetle, ’case he’s gettin’ oneasy like when Miss Carline rides +him." + +"Likely story," said Mr. Edson; "but for once you are in the way when I +want you. You know where Mr. Middleton lives?" + +"Yes, marster, reckon I does." + +"Well, this young man wants to go there. Now jump down quick and help him +on. Do you hear?" + +"Yes, marster," said the negro, and in a moment he was on the ground, +holding the stirrup for Mr. Wilmot to mount. + +Wilmot hesitated for two causes. The first was, he was not a good horseman +and did not like to attempt mounting the spirited animal before so many +pairs of eyes. He looked wistfully at the horse block, but did not dare +propose having the horse led up to it. The second reason was he did not +know whether to accept or decline the kindness of Mr. Edson; but that man +reassured him by saying: + +"Come! What are you waiting for? Jump up. I’d a heap rather Jim would go +with you than ride Prince to death." + +Here Mr. Woodburn spoke. He knew that New York people were, comparatively +speaking, inferior riders, and he conjectured why Mr. Wilmot hesitated; so +he said: + +"Here, Jim, lead the horse up to the block for the gentleman"; then +turning to the bystanders, said, as if apologizing for Wilmot: "You know +it is so thickly settled in New York that they do not ride as much as we +do, and probably the young man has always been at school." + +This was satisfactory to the white portion of the audience, but not to the +group of blacks, who were assembled at the corner of the house. They +thought it a shame not to be a good rider and when they saw the awkward +manner in which Mr. Wilmot finally mounted the horse and the ludicrous +face of Jim Crow as he sprang up behind him, they were, as they afterward +told Aunt Esther, "dreffully tickled and would have larfed, sartin, if +they hadn’t knowed marster would have slapped their jaws." + +"And sarved you right," was the rejoinder of Aunt Esther. + +But to return to Mr. Edson. As soon as Mr. Wilmot, Jim and Prince had +disappeared, he felt a return of his fears concerning the "confounded +Abolitionist." Thought he, "What a fool I was to let Prince and Jim Crow, +too, go off with that ar’ chap! Thar’s Prince, worth a hundred and fifty, +and Jim, at the least calculation, ’ll fetch eight hundred. Well, anyway, +they can’t get far on that dirt road, so if Jim isn’t home by nine, I’ll +go after ’em, that’s so." Having settled the matter thus satisfactorily in +his own mind, he called for his horse and started for home. + +Meantime Mr. Wilmot was slowly wending his way toward Mr. Middleton’s. It +took but a short time for him to ascertain that the road was fully equal +to the description given of it by Mr. Edson. At times he could scarcely +keep his head, and he felt conscious, too, that the black machine behind +him was inwardly convulsed with laughter at his awkward attempts to guide +the horse in the best part of the road. At length he ventured a remark: + +"Jim, is this animal ugly?" + +"Ugly! Lor’ bless you, marster, is you blind? As handsome a creetur as +thar is in the country!" + +Mr. Wilmot understood that he had used the word ugly in its wrong sense, +so he said: + +"I do not mean to ask if the horse is ill-looking, but is he skittish?" + +"If marster means by that will he throw him off, I don’t think he will as +long as I’m on him, but sometimes he is a leetle contrary like. Reckon +marster ain’t much used to ridin’." + +By this time they had reached the gate spoken of by Mr. Edson. To Mr. +Wilmot’s great surprise the horse walked tip to it and tried to open it +with his mouth! Mr. Wilmot was so much amused that he would not suffer Jim +to get down and open the gate, as he wished to see if the horse could do +it. + +"Oh, yes, marster, he’ll do it easy," said the negro; and sure enough, in +a moment the well-trained animal lifted the latch and pushed open the +gate! But it was a rickety old thing, and before Prince had got fairly +through it tumbled down, hitting his heels and causing him to jump +sideways, so as to leave Mr. Wilmot riding the gate and Jim Crow in quiet +possession of the saddle! With a great effort Jim forced down his desire +to scream and merely showed twenty-eight very large, white teeth. + +Springing from the horse he offered to assist Mr. Wilmot to mount again, +but he had no inclination to do so. He preferred walking the rest of the +way, he said, and as he could now easily find the house, Jim could return +home. This was not what Jim wanted. He had anticipated a nice time in +relating his adventures to Mr. Middleton’s negroes, but as Mr. Wilmot +slipped a quarter into his hand, he felt consoled for the loss of his +"yarn"; so mounting Prince again, he gave his old palm leaf three +flourishes round his head, and with a loud whoop, started the horse with a +tremendous speed down the road and was soon out of sight, leaving Mr. +Wilmot to find his way alone through the wood. This he found no difficulty +in doing, for he soon came in sight of a house, which he readily took for +Mr. Middleton’s. + +It was a large, old-fashioned stone building, with one chimney fallen +down, as Mr. Edson had said, and its companion looked likely to follow +suit at the first high wind. The windows of the upper story were +two-thirds of them destitute of glass, but its place was supplied by +shingles, which kept the cold out if they did not let the light in. +Scattered about the yard, which was very large, were corn cribs, hay +racks, pig troughs, carts, wagons, old plows, horses, mules, cows, hens, +chickens, turkeys, geese, negroes, and dogs, the latter of which rushed +ferociously at Mr. Wilmot, who was about to beat a retreat from so +uninviting quarters, when one of the negroes called out, "Ho, marster, +don’t be feared, ’case I’ll hold Tiger." So Wilmot advanced with some +misgivings toward the negro and dog. + +He asked the negro if his master were at home. + +"No, sar, marster’s done gone away, but Miss Nancy, she’s at home. Jist +walk right in thar, whar you see the pile of saddles in the entry." + +Accordingly, Mr. Wilmot "walked in where the pile of saddles were," and +knocked at a side door. It was opened by a very handsome young girl, who +politely asked the stranger to enter. He did so and found within a +mild-looking, middle-aged lady, whose dark eyes and hair showed her at +once to be the mother of the young lady who had opened the door for him. + +Mrs. Middleton, for she it was, arose, and offering her hand to the +stranger, asked him to be seated in the large stuffed chair which stood +before the cheerful blazing fire. In a few moments he had introduced +himself, told his business and inquired for Mr. Middleton. + +"My husband is absent," said Mrs. Middleton, "but he will be at home +tonight and we shall be glad to have you remain with us till tomorrow at +least, and as much longer as you like, for I think Mr. Middleton will be +glad to assist you in getting a school." + +Mr. Wilmot accepted the invitation and then looked round the room to see +if the interior of the house corresponded with the exterior, It did not, +for the room, though large, was very comfortable. The floor was covered +with a bright-colored home-made carpet. In one corner stood a bed, the +counterpane of which was as white as snow, and the curtains of the windows +were of the same hue. In another corner was a small bookcase, well filled +with books and on a stand near a window were several house plants. + +He concluded that the books and the plants were the property of the young +lady, whom Mrs. Middleton introduced to him as her eldest daughter Julia. +She was an intelligent-looking girl, and Mr. Wilmot instantly felt +interested in her, but when he attempted to converse with her, she stole +quietly out of the room, leaving her mother to entertain the visitor. + +At last supper was brought in by old Aunt Judy, who courtesied so low to +the "young marster," that she upset the coffee pot, the contents of which +fell upon a spaniel, which lay before the fire. The outcries of the dog +brought Miss Julia from the kitchen, and this time she was accompanied by +her younger sister, Fanny, who together with Julia and Aunt Judy, lamented +over the wounded animal. + +"I didn’t go to do it, sartin, Miss July," said Aunt Judy, "Lor’ knows I +didn’t." + +"Who said you did, you black thing, you?" said Julia, who in her grief for +her favorite, and her anger at Aunt Judy, forgot the stranger, and her +bashfulness, too. "You were careless, I know you were," she continued, "or +you never could have tipped the coffee over in this manner." + +"Never mind, sister," said Fanny, "never mind; of course, Aunt Judy didn’t +mean to do it, for she likes Dido as well as we do." + +"Lor’ bless Miss Fanny’s sweet face, that I do like Dido," said Aunt Judy. + +"Yes, that you do," repeated Julia mockingly, "just as though you could +like anything." + +Here Mrs. Middleton interposed and ordered Julia and Fanny to take their +seats at the table, while Judy cleared away all traces of the disaster. +Julia complied with an ill-grace, muttering something about "the hateful +negroes," while Fanny obeyed readily, and laughingly made some remark to +Mr. Wilmot about their making so much ado over a dog, "but," said she, "we +are silly girls, and of course do silly things. Probably we shall do +better when we get old like you—no, like mother, I mean." + +Here she stopped, blushing deeply at having called Mr. Wilmot old, when in +fact she thought him quite young, and very handsome—in short, "just the +thing." She thought to herself, "There, I’ve done it now! Julia and I have +both introduced ourselves to him in a pretty light, but it’s just like +me—however, I’ll not say another word tonight!" + +The little incident of the coffee pot gave Mr. Wilmot something of an +insight into the character and disposition of the two girls. And surely +nothing could have been more unlike than their personal appearance, as +they sat side by side at the supper table. Julia was about seventeen years +of age and was called very handsome, for there was something peculiarly +fascinating in the ever-varying expression of her large black eyes. She +was a brunette, but there was on her cheek so rich and changeable a color +that one forgot in looking at her, whether she were dark or light. Her +disposition was something like her complexion—dark and variable. Her +father was a native of South Carolina, and from him she inherited a quick, +passionate temper. At times she was as gentle as a lamb, but when anything +occurred to trouble her, all her Southern blood boiled up, and she was as +Fanny said, "always ready to fire up at a moment’s warning." Mr. Middleton +called her "Tempest," while to Fanny he gave the pet name of "Sunshine," +and truly, compared with her sister, Fanny’s presence in the house was +like a ray of sunshine. + +She was two years younger than Julia and entirely different from her, both +in looks and disposition. Her face was very pale and her bright golden +hair fell in soft curls around her neck and shoulders, giving her +something the appearance of a fairy. Her eyes were very large and very +dark blue, and ever mirrored forth the feelings of her soul. + +By the servants Julia was feared and dreaded; but Fanny was a favorite +with all. Not a man, woman or child on the plantation but was ready to do +anything for "darling Miss Fanny." And they thought, too, every one must +love her as well as they did, for they said "she showed by her face that +she was an angel." This was the opinion of the blacks, and it was also the +partially formed opinion of Mr. Wilmot before he finished his supper; and +yet he could not help thinking there was something wondrously attractive +in the glance of Julia’s large, dark eyes. + +After supper he tried to engage the girls in conversation in order to +ascertain which had the better mind. He found Fanny most ready to +converse. She had forgotten her resolution not to talk, and before the +evening was half spent seemed perfectly well acquainted with him. She had +discovered that his name was Richard, that he had a sister Kate, who +called him Dick, that he was as yet possessor of his own heart, but was in +danger of losing it! The compliment Fanny very generously gave to her +sister Julia, because she observed that Mr. Wilmot’s eyes were often +directed toward the corner where the dark beauty sat, silent and +immovable. + +Julia had taken but little part in the conversation and Mr. Wilmot’s +efforts to "draw her out" had proved ineffectual. She felt piqued that +Fanny should engross so much attention and resolved on revenge; so she +determined to show Mr. Wilmot that she could talk but not upon such silly +subjects as pleased Fanny. Accordingly, when books were mentioned, she +seemed suddenly aroused into life. She was really very intelligent and a +very good scholar. She had a great taste for reading, and what books she +could not prevail on her father to buy, she would borrow, so she had a +tolerably good knowledge of all the standard works. Mr. Wilmot was +surprised and pleased to find her so well informed and in the spirited +conversation which followed poor Fanny was cast entirely into the +background. + +Fanny, however, attributed it to her sister’s superior knowledge of Latin, +and inwardly "thanked her stars" that she knew nothing of that language +further than the verb Amo, to love. The practical part of that verb she +understood, even if she did not its conjugation. She sat quietly listening +to Mr. Wilmot and her sister, but her cogitations were far different from +what Julia’s had been. + +Fanny was building castles—in all of which Mr. Wilmot and Julia were the +hero and heroine. She gazed admiringly at her sister, whose face grew +handsomer each moment as she became more animated, and she thought, "What +a nice-looking couple Julia and Mr. Wilmot would make! And they would be +so happy, too—that is if sister didn’t get angry, and I am sure she +wouldn’t with Mr. Wilmot. Then they would have a nicer house than this old +shell, and perhaps they would let me live with them!" + +Here her reverie was interrupted by Mr. Wilmot, who asked her if she ever +studied Latin. Fanny hesitated; she did not wish to confess that she had +once studied it six months, but at the end of that time she was so +heartily tired of its "long-tailed verbs," as she called them, that she +had thrown her grammar out of the window and afterward given it to Aunt +Judy to start the oven with! + +This story was told, however, by Julia, with many embellishments, for she +delighted in making Fanny appear ridiculous. She was going on swimmingly +when she received a drawback from her mother, who said: + +"Julia, what do you want to talk so for? You know that while Fanny studied +Latin, Mr. Miller said she learned her lessons more readily than you did +and recited them better, and he said, too, that she was quite as good a +French scholar as you." + +Julia curled her lip scornfully and said, "she didn’t know what her mother +knew about Fanny’s scholarship." Meantime Fanny was blushing deeply and +thinking that she had appeared to great disadvantage in Mr. Wilmot’s eyes; +but he very kindly changed the conversation by asking who Mr. Miller was, +and was told that he was a young man from Albany, New York, who taught in +their neighborhood the winter before. + +The appearance of some nice red apples just then turned the attention of +the little company in another channel and before they were aware of it the +clock struck ten. Mr. Middleton had not returned and as it was doubtful +whether he came at all that night, Julia went into the kitchen for Luce, +to show Mr. Wilmot to his room. She was gone some time, and when she +returned was accompanied by a bright-looking mulatto girl, who, as soon as +she had conducted Mr. Wilmot into his room, commenced making excuses about +"marster’s old house! Things was drefful all round it, but ’twasn’t Miss +Julia’s fault, for if she could have her way ’twould be fixed up, sartin. +She was a born’d lady, anybody could see; so different from Miss Fanny, +who cared nothing how things looked if she could go into the kitchen and +turn hoe cakes for Aunt Judy, or tend the baby!" + +By this time Luce had arranged the room all it wanted arranging, and as +Mr. Wilmot had no further need of her services, she left him to think of +what she had said. He did not know that the bright red ribbon, which +appeared on Luce’s neck next morning, was the gift of Julia, who had +bribed her to say what she did to him. Julia knew that she had made a +favorable impression on Mr. Wilmot by making him think meanly of Fanny. + +What Luce said had its effect upon him, too. He was accustomed to the +refinements of the North and he could not help respecting a young lady +more who showed a taste for neatness. That night he dreamed that a bright +pair of dark eves were looking at him from each pane of shingle in the +window, and that a golden-haired fairy was dancing the Polka in Aunt +Judy’s hoe cake batter. + + + + + + CHAPTER II + + + GETTING UP A SUBSCRIPTION SCHOOL + + +Next morning before daybreak Mr. Wilmot was aroused from a sound slumber +by what he thought was the worst noise he had ever heard. He instantly +concluded that the house was on fire, and springing up, endeavored to find +his clothes, but in the deep darkness of the room such a thing was +impossible; so he waited a while and tried to find out what the noise +could be. + +At last it assumed something of a definite form, and he found it was the +voice of a man calling out in thunder-like tones, "Ho, Jebediah! Come out +with ye! Do you hear? Are you coming?" + +Then followed a long catalogue of names, such as Sam, Joe, Jack, Jim, Ike, +Jerry, Nehemiah, Ezariah, Judy, Tilda, Martha, Rachel, Luce and Phema, and +at the end of each name was the same list of questions which had preceded +that of Jebediah; and ever from the negro quarters came the same response, +"Yes, marster, comin’." + +By this time all the hens, geese, turkeys and dogs were wide awake and +joining their voices in the chorus, made the night, or rather the morning, +hideous with their outcries. At last the noise subsided. Silence settled +around the house and Wilmot tried to compose himself to sleep. When he +again awoke the sun was shining brightly into his room. He arose and +dressed himself, but felt in no hurry to see "his host," who had come +home, he was sure, and had given such tremendous demonstrations of the +strength of his lungs. + +Mr. Wilmot finally descended to the sitting room, where the first object +which presented itself was a man who was certainly six and a half feet +high, and large in proportion. His face was dark and its natural color was +increased by a beard of at least four weeks’ growth! He had on his head an +old slouched hat, from under which a few gray locks were visible. As soon +as Wilmot appeared, the uncouth figure advanced toward him, and seizing +his hand, gave a grip, which, if continued long, would certainly have +crushed every bone! He began with— + +"Well, so you are Mr. Wilmot from New York, hey? Of course a red-hot +Abolitionist, but I don’t care for that if you’ll only keep your ideas to +yourself and not try to preach your notions to me. I’ve heard of you +before." + +"Heard of me, sir?" said Mr. Wilmot in surprise. + +"Yes, of you; and why not? Thar’s many a man, not as good as you, judging +by your looks, has had a hearing in his day; but, however, I haint heard +of you by the papers. As I was coming home last night I got along to old +man Edson’s, and I seen him swarin’ and tarin’ round so says I, ’Ho, old +man, what’s the row?’ ’Oh,’ says he, ’that you, Middleton? Nuff’s the row. +I’ve done let my best horse and nigger go off with a man from the free +States, who said he’s going to your house, and here ’tis after nine and +Jim not at home yet. Of course they’ve put out for the river.’ ’Now,’ says +I, ’don’t be a fool, Edson; if that ar chap said he’s goin’ to my house, +he’s goin’ thar, I’ll bet all my land and niggers he’s honest. Likely +Jim’s stopped somewhar. You come along with me and we’ll find him.’ So we +jogged along on the pike till of a sudden we met Prince coming home all +alone! This looked dark, but I told Edson to say nothin’ and keep on; so +we came to Woodburn’s fine house, and thar in the cabins we seen a bright +light, and heard the niggers larfin like five hundred, and thought we +could distinguish Jim Crow’s voice; so we crept slyly up to the window and +looked in and, sure enough, there was Jim, telling a great yarn about the +way you rode and how you got flung onto the gate. It seems he didn’t half +hitch Prince, who got oneasy like, and started for home. Edson hollered to +Jim, who came out and told how he didn’t go clear here with you, cause you +said you could find the way, and he might go back. Then old man Edson +turned right round and said you were a likely man, and he hoped I’d do all +I could for you. So that’s the way I heard of you; and now welcome to old +Kentuck, and welcome to my house, such as it is. It’s mighty mean, though, +as ’Tempest’ says." + +Here he turned to Julia, who had just entered the room. Then he went on: +"Yes, Tempest raves and tars about the house and can hardly wait till I’m +dead before she spends my money in fool fixin’s. Devil of a cent she’ll +get though if she rides as high a horse as she generally does! I’ll give +it all to ’Sunshine’; yes, I will. She’s more gentle-like and comes +coaxin’ round me, and puttin’ her soft arms round my old shaggy neck says, +’Please, pa, if I’ll learn to make a nice pudding or pie of Aunt Judy, +will you buy us a new looking-glass or rocking chair?’ And then ’tisn’t in +my natur to refuse. Oh, yes; Sunshine is a darling," said he, laying his +hand caressingly on Fanny’s head, who just at that moment showed her sunny +face in the room. + +During breakfast Mr. Middleton inquired more particularly into Mr. +Wilmot’s plans and wishes, and told him there was no doubt that he could +obtain a good school in that immediate neighborhood. "Your best way," said +he, "will be to write a subscription paper. The people then see what for a +fist you write, and half the folks in Kentuck will judge you by that. In +the paper you must tell what you know and what you ask to tell it to +others. I’ll head the list with my two gals and give you a horse to go +round with, and I’ll bet Tempest, and Sunshine, too, that you’ll get a +full school afore night." + +At the last part of this speech Julia curled her lips and tried to look +indignant, while Fanny laughingly said, "Pa, what makes you always bet +sister and me, just as though you could sell us like horses? It’s bad +enough to bet and sell the blacks, I think." + +"Ho, ho! So you’ve got some free State notions already, have you?" said +Mr. Middleton. "Well, honey, you’re more’n half right, I reckon." So +saying, he for the fourth time passed up his coffee cup. + +Breakfast being over, he took his young friend to the stable and bade him +select for his own use any horse he chose. Mr. Wilmot declined, saying he +was not much accustomed to horses; he preferred that Mr. Middleton should +choose any horse he pleased. + +"Very well," said Mr. Middleton; "from the accounts I have heard of your +horsemanship it may be improved; so I reckon I’ll not give you a very +skeary horse to begin with. Thar’s Aleck’ll just suit you. He’ll not throw +you on the gate, for he doesn’t trot as fast as a black ant can walk!" + +Accordingly Aleck was saddled and bridled and Mr. Wilmot was soon mounted +and, with his subscription paper in his pocket, was riding off after +subscribers. He was very successful; and when at night he turned his face +homeward, he had the names of fifteen scholars and the partial promise of +five more. + +"Well, my boy, what luck?" said Mr. Middleton, as Wilmot entered the +sitting room that evening. + +"Very good success," returned Mr. Wilmot; "I am sure of fifteen scholars +and have a promise for five more." + +"Yes, pretty good," said Mr. Middleton; "fifteen sartin, and five +unsartin. Who are the unsartin ones?—old Thornton’s?" + +Mr. Wilmot replied that he believed it was a Mr. Thornton who had +hesitated about signing. + +"He’ll sign," said Mr. Middleton. "I’s thar after you was, and he told me +you might put down five for him. I pay for two on ’em. He lives on my +premises; and if he doesn’t pay up for t’other three, why, he’ll jog, +that’s all." + +Mr. Wilmot said he hoped no one would send to school against their wishes. + +"Lord, no," rejoined Mr. Middleton; "old Thornton wants to send bad +enough, only he’s stingy like. Let me see your paper, boy." + +Mr. Wilmot handed him the paper, and he went on: "Thar’s ten scholars at +eight dollars—that makes eighty; then thar’s five at eleven dollars, and +fifty-five and eighty makes a hundred and thirty-five; then thar’s five +more at fifteen dollars; five times fifteen; five times five is +twenty-five—seventy-five dollars;—seventy-five and a hundred and +thirty-five;—five and five is ten, one to seven is eight, eight and three +is eleven—two hundred and ten dollars! Why, quite a heap! Of course you’ve +got clothes enough to last a spell, so you can put two hundred out at +interest. I’ll take it and give you ten per cent." + +Mr. Wilmot smiled at seeing his money so carefully disposed of before it +was earned, but he merely said, "There’s my board to be deducted." + +"Your what?" asked Mr. Middleton. + +"My board, sir. I have no other means of paying it. I find I can get +boarded for a dollar and a half a week." + +"The deuce you can," said Mr. Middleton. "Who’ll board you for that?" + +Mr. Wilmot gave the name of the gentleman, to which Mr. Middleton replied, +"I want to know if he will board you so very cheap!" + +"Why, yes. Do you think I should pay more?" + +"Pay more!" replied Middleton. "Don’t be a fool! Why, here’s this infernal +old shell of a house wants filling up, and thar’s heaps of horses and +niggers lounging round with nothing to do; then I’ve plenty of potatoes, +bacon and corn meal—and such fare as we have you’re welcome to, without a +dollar and a half, or even a cent and a half." + +Mr. Wilmot remonstrated at receiving so much at Mr. Middleton’s hands, but +that good man put an end to all further argument by saying, "Do let me act +as I like. You see, I’ve taken a liking to you, and because I see you +trying to help yourself, I am willing to try and help you. They say, or +Tempest says they say, I’m a rough old bear, and maybe I am; but I’m not +all bad; it’s a streak o’ fat and a streak o’ lean; and if I want to do +you a kindness, pray let me." + +So it was settled that Mr. Wilmot should remain in Mr. Middleton’s family +during the winter. To Julia this arrangement gave secret satisfaction. She +had from the first liked Mr. Wilmot, and the idea of having him near her +all the time was perfectly delightful. She resolved to gain his good +opinion, cost what it would. To do this, she knew she must appear to be +amiable, and that she determined to do—before him at least. She had also +seen enough of him to know that he set a great value upon talent, and she +resolved to surprise him with her superior scholarship and ability to +learn. She, however, felt some misgivings lest Fanny should rival her in +his esteem; but she hoped by negro bribery and various little artifices to +deter him from thinking too highly of her sister. + +The following Monday, Mr. Wilmot repaired to his schoolroom, where he +found assembled all his pupils. It was comparatively easy to arrange them +into classes and ere the close of the day the school was pretty generally +organized. Weeks passed on and each day the "Yankee schoolmaster" gained +in the love of his scholars, and one of them, at least, gained in the +affections of the teacher. Julia had adhered to her resolution of +appearing amiable and of surprising Mr. Wilmot with her wonderful powers +of learning. This last she did to perfection. No lesson was so long but it +was readily learned and its substance admirably told in words of her own. +She preferred reciting alone and she so far outstripped the others in the +length of her lessons, it seemed necessary that she should do so. Mr. +Wilmot often wondered at her marvelous capacity for learning so much in so +short a space of time, for she never took home her books at night, and she +said she had plenty of time for her lessons during school hours. + +With Fanny it was just the reverse. She got her lessons at home and played +all day at school! Sometimes a reprimand from Mr. Wilmot would bring the +tears into her eyes and she would wonder why it was she could not behave +and make Mr. Wilmot like her as well as he did Julia. Then she would +resolve not to make any more faces at that booby, Bill Jeffrey, for the +girls to laugh at, nor to draw any more pictures on her slate of the Dame +Sobriety, as she called Julia, and lastly, not to pin any more chalk rags +on the boys’ coats. But she was a dear lover of fun and her resolutions +were soon for gotten. Her lessons, however, were generally well-learned, +and well recited; but she could not compete with Julia, neither did she +wish to. She often wondered how her sister could learn so long lessons, +and, secretly, she had her own suspicions on the subject, but chose to +keep them to herself. + +Meantime the winter was passing rapidly and, to Mr. Wilmot, very agreeably +away. He liked his boarding place much and one of its inmates had almost, +without his knowledge, wound herself strongly around his heart. For a time +he struggled against it, for his first acquaintance with Julia had not +left a very favorable impression on his mind. But since that night she had +been perfectly pleasant before him and had given out but one demonstration +of her passionate temper. + +This was one evening at the supper table. Zuba, a mulatto girl, brought in +some preserves and, in passing them, very carelessly spilled them upon +Julia’s new blue merino. In the anger of the moment Mr. Wilmot and his +good opinion were forgotten. Springing up, she gave the girl a blow which +sent her half across the room and caused her to drop the dish, which was +broken in twenty pieces. At the same time she exclaimed in a loud, angry +tone, "Devil take you, Zube!" The loss of the dish elicited a series of +oaths from Mr. Middleton, who called his daughter such names as "lucifer +match," "volcano," "powder mill," and so forth. + +For her father’s swearing Julia cared nothing, but it was the sorrowful, +disappointed expression of Mr. Wilmot’s face which cooled her down. +Particularly did she wish to recall what she had done when she saw that +Fanny also had received some of the preserves on her merino; but instead +of raging like a fury, she arose and quietly wiped it off, and then burst +into a loud laugh, which she afterward told her mother was occasioned by +the mournful look which Mr. Wilmot’s face assumed when he saw that Julia’s +temper was not dead, but merely covered up with ashes. + +From this remark of Fanny’s the reader will understand that she was well +aware of the part her sister was playing. And she was perfectly satisfied +that it should be so, for by this means she occasionally got a pleasant +word from Julia. She, however, often wished that Mr. Wilmot could be +constantly with her sister, for his presence in the house did not prevent +her from expending her wrath upon both Fanny and the blacks. + +For some days after the affair of the preserves, Mr. Wilmot was somewhat +cool in his manner toward Julia, who had discernment enough to attribute +the change to the right cause. Earnestly did she desire to win back his +esteem, and she accordingly cast about for some method by which she could +undo what she had done. She could think of no way except to acknowledge +her error to Mr. Wilmot and promise to do better in the future. So one +evening when her father, mother and Fanny were absent, and she was alone +with him, she adroitly led the conversation to the circumstance of her +spoiled merino. She acknowledged that it was very unamiable and unladylike +to manifest such passionate feelings, said she knew she had a quick +temper, but she tried hard to govern it; and if Mr. Wilmot would, as her +teacher and friend, aid her by his advice and influence, she was sure she +would in time succeed. So nicely did she manage each part of her +confession that Mr. Wilmot was thoroughly deceived. He believed her +perfectly sincere, and greatly admired what he thought to be her frank, +confiding disposition. + +From that time she was dearer to him than ever and Julia, again sure of +his esteem, placed a double guard upon her temper, and in his presence was +the very "pink" of amiability! Affairs were gliding smoothly on, when the +family received a visit from a gentleman, whom Julia would rather not have +seen. This was Mr. Miller, whom we have mentioned as having taught in that +neighborhood the winter before. Mr. Wilmot found him in the sitting room +one night, on his return from school. When the young men were introduced +they regarded each other a moment in silence, then their hands were +cordially extended, and the words, "Richard Wilmot," "Joseph Miller," were +simultaneously uttered. + +It seems that, years before, they had been roommates and warmly attached +friends in the Academy of Canandaigua, New York, and now, after the lapse +of ten years, they met for the first time far off in Kentucky. A long +conversation followed, relative to what had occurred to each since the +bright June morning when they parted with so much regret in the old +academic halls of Canandaigua. + +At length Mr. Miller said: "Richard, what has become of that sister of +yours, of whose marvelous beauty you used to tell us boys such big +stories?" + +"My sister Kate," said Mr. Wilmot, "is at present at school in New Haven." + +"And is she still as beautiful as you used to try to make us think she +was?" asked Mr. Miller. + +"I will show you her likeness," returned Wilmot, "and you can judge for +yourself." + +So saying, he drew from his pocket a richly cased daguerreotype, and +handed it to Mr. Miller. It was a face of uncommon beauty which met Mr. +Miller’s eye, and he gazed enraptured on the surpassing loveliness of the +picture. At last he passed it to Fanny, who was eagerly waiting for it, +and then turning to Wilmot, he said, "Yes, Richard, she has the handsomest +face I ever saw." + +"And the handsomest face I ever saw with one exception," said Mr. Wilmot, +glancing admiringly toward Julia. Mr. Miller followed the direction of his +eyes and as he saw the brilliant beauty of Julia, he sighed for fear his +young friend might or had already become entangled in her dark meshes. + +Just then Fanny exclaimed, "Oh, how handsome; look mother—Julia, isn’t she +perfectly beautiful!" And then she added, "But, Mr. Wilmot, is she as good +as she is beautiful?" + +"How absurd," said Julia hastily; "just as though one cannot be handsome +and good too." + +"I didn’t say they couldn’t, sister," said Fanny; "but I thought—yes, I’m +sure she looks a little selfish!" + +"Upon my word you’re very polite," said Julia. "Mr. Wilmot will doubtless +feel complimented by what you say of his sister." + +"Never mind, Fanny," said Mr. Wilmot; "never mind; you are more of a +physiognomist than I thought you were, for Kate’s great fault is being too +selfish; but she will overcome that in time, I think." + +"Oh, I am sure so," quickly rejoined Fanny, regretting her words and +anxious to do away with any unfavorable impression she might have made. So +she went up to Mr. Wilmot and laying her hand on his shoulder, said, "I am +sorry if I said anything bad of your sister. She is very beautiful and I +think I should love her very much. Do you think she will ever come to +Kentucky?" + +"I hardly think she will," said Mr. Wilmot; "but I think you would like +her, and I am sure she would love you. I often write to her about my two +Kentucky sisters." + +"Oh, do you," said Fanny, clapping her white, dimpled hands, "do you +really call us both sisters? And do you tell her how much handsomer Julia +is than I am, and how much more she knows?" + +"And how much more does she know?" said Mr. Miller, who was always +interested in whatever Fanny said. + +"Oh, she knows a ’heap’ more than I do," said Fanny, "I fear I haven’t +improved much since you left, for Mr. Wilmot is so very indulgent that he +never scolds when my lessons are but half-learned, but consoles himself, I +suppose, with Julia’s great long yarns." + +"And are Julia’s lessons so very long?" asked Mr. Miller. + +"Yes, sir," replied Fanny. "It is the wonder of all the girls how she +manages to commit so much to memory in so short a time, for she never +brings home her books and she spends two-thirds of her time, during school +hours, in writing something on a sheet of foolscap. We girls have our own +suspicions about that paper, for when her lesson is very hard we notice +that she is unusually confined to her notes." + +Here Julia angrily exclaimed, "Fanny, what do you mean? Do you intend to +insinuate that I write my lesson down and then read it?" + +"Fire and fury," said Mr. Middleton, who had been an attentive listener, +"what’s all this about? Tempest, do you write down your task? Good reason +why you don’t bring home your books. Speak, girl, quick—are you guilty of +such meanness?" + +Julia burst into tears, and said: "No, father, I am not; and I think it +too bad that I should be suspected of such a thing, when I am trying to do +as well as I can." + +"I think so too," said Mr. Wilmot, whose sympathies were all with Julia. + +Mr. Miller thought otherwise, but he said nothing. Julia had never been a +favorite with him. He understood her character perfectly well and he felt +grieved that his friend should be so deceived in her. Perhaps Julia read +something of what was passing in his mind; for she felt very uneasy for +fear he might tell Mr. Wilmot something unfavorable of her. Nor was she +mistaken in her conjectures, for after the young men had retired for the +night, their conversation naturally enough turned upon the family and the +two girls, both of whom Mr. Wilmot spoke of in the highest terms. Mr. +Miller agreed with him as long as his remarks were confined to Fanny, but +when he came to speak of Julia, and of her superior beauty, intellect and +agreeable manners, he ventured to disagree with him. + +Said he, "As to Julia’s beauty, there can be but one opinion, for she is +very handsome; but the interior of the casket does not correspond with the +exterior; she is as false as fair. Then, as to her intellect, I never +thought it greatly superior to Fanny’s. To be sure, she has a way of +showing off all she does know, while Fanny is more retiring." + +Here Mr. Wilmot spoke of the faculty she possessed for learning so long +lessons. "Even your favorite Fanny," said he, "admitted that." + +"True," returned Mr. Miller, "but have you forgotten the notes? Do you not +think there may be something in that?" + +"Is it possible," said Mr. Wilmot, rather warmly, "is it possible you +think the high-souled Julia capable of such meanness? You do not know her +as well as I do, if you think she would stoop to such deception. You shall +go to school with me tomorrow, and then you can see for yourself." + +"Yes, I will do so," said Mr. Miller, and then as he saw Mr. Wilmot seemed +somewhat excited, he changed the conversation, which had been heard by +other ears. Adjoining the room of Mr. Wilmot was a long dark closet, the +door of which opened into the apartment of Julia and Fanny. This closet +was used for a kind of lumber room, in which were stored promiscuously old +barrels, trunks, hats, boots and so forth. It originally had a window, but +the glass had long been broken and its place supplied by a large board, +which failed to keep out the wind and rain, so that during the winter +season the closet was a cold, cheerless place. + +But on the night of which we were speaking, it contained a novel piece of +lumber. Crouched behind an old barrel sat Julia, listening eagerly to the +conversation between her teacher and Mr. Miller. When it ceased she arose +from her dark hiding place and muttered to herself: "So you’ll see, will +you? You old torment! I wish the Old Scratch had got you before you ever +came here. If I dared to I’d—but no, I wouldn’t do that, bad as I am. +However, I’ll cheat you for once, you hateful limb! But what shall I do?" + +She indeed was in a dilemma; but she had often boasted that she never yet +was in so straitened a spot that she could not devise some means of +extricating herself, and she relied on the Master she served to aid her in +this difficulty. She never brought her books home and as the reader will +ere this have surmised, she was in the daily habit of writing a sketch of +her lesson on foolscap, and then reading it off. When school first +commenced she had asked the privilege of sitting in her seat while +reciting and by this means she could hold the paper under her desk and +thus avoid Mr. Wilmot’s suspicion. Her lessons for the next day were +unusually long and hard, and as Mr. Miller would be present, she dared not +resort to her usual artifice, particularly after what had been said about +her "notes." She knew she never could learn all that long lesson in school +hours, neither would she fail of having it for anything. What could she +do? For some time she sat by the dying embers, with her dark face buried +in her hands, revolving in her mind the best scheme by which to outwit Mr. +Miller. + +At last she rose up and a malicious smile of exultation passed over her +features. She looked at the clock and saw it was already half-past ten, +and then stealing softly to the bedside where Fanny lay quietly sleeping, +she bent down and assured herself that her sister really was unconscious +of her movements. She then hastily threw on her overshoes, cloak and hood +and stealing noiselessly down the stairs, was soon in the open air alone +in the darkness of the night. Just as she shut the door of the house, the +watch dog, Tiger, came bounding furiously toward her with an angry growl. +She silenced the fierce animal by saying, "Down, Tiger—poor Tige—don’t you +know me?" After quieting the dog, she proceeded on her strange errand, +which was to obtain her books from the schoolhouse, which was more than +half a mile distant. + +The mud, which was very deep, was not more than half frozen, and at each +step she sank into a mixture of mud, snow and ice. Still she kept +fearlessly on, till at last she found herself in the midst of the thick +woods. Here her courage somewhat failed her, for she called to mind all +the stories she had ever heard of runaways, who were said to walk abroad +at this dark hour of the night. Once she thought she saw the giant form of +a negro standing in her path, but it proved to be a black stump, and she +was about laughing at her fears, when her ear detected the sound of a +light, rapid tread coming toward her. Almost paralyzed with terror, she +stood perfectly still and listened for the sound to be repeated, but all +was silent, and again she went on her way, and soon reached the school +house. + +But here a new difficulty presented itself. The house was locked and the +key was in Mr. Wilmot’s pocket; but the old adage, "where there’s a will, +there’s a way," came into her mind, so she felt around on the half frozen +ground till she found a long rail, which she placed against a window; then +climbing up, she raised the sash, and in a moment was in the schoolroom. +The atmosphere of the room was still comfortable and she stopped for a +moment at the stove to warm her benumbed fingers, then groping her way to +her desk, she easily found her books and made her way out of the house in +the same manner that she had entered. + +Just as she reached the ground a large, dark object sprang toward her and +two glittering eyes looked up into her face. She uttered a loud shriek and +was answered by a low whine, which she instantly recognized as belonging +to Tiger. "Why, Tiger," she exclaimed, "how you frightened me! What did +you follow me for?" It seems Tiger had thought there must be something +wrong, or his mistress would not be out at this unreasonable hour, so he +had followed on after her. She was noways displeased at this, for she +liked not the idea of again going alone through the wood, but with Tiger +for a companion she went fearlessly on and reached home just an hour after +she had left it. + +On entering her room she struck a light and then tried to warm her chilled +limbs over a few faint coals which still glimmered on the hearth; but +there was no wood in the room and she dared not go for any, so she sat +down with her cloak still around her, and for four long hours studied as +she had never done before in all her life. At the end of that time her +lessons were very nearly learned, and sick with cold and fatigue, she +threw aside her books and prepared for bed. + +Her movements awoke Fanny, who, on seeing her sister up at that late hour +of the night, started with surprise, and exclaimed, "What is it, Julia? +What is the matter?" Julia immediately extinguished the light, lest her +sister should discover the books and then said, "Nothing, Fanny, nothing; +only I have the toothache, and I got up for the camphor, but I cannot find +the bottle anywhere." + +"The camphor is downstairs," said Fanny, "but I will go for it if you wish +me to. Does your tooth ache very much?" + +"Yes, rather," said Julia, and her kind-hearted sister arose and found her +way in the dark downstairs to her mother’s room. + +"What in thunder’s come now?" called out Mr. Middleton. "’Pears like +somebody’s been tousing round the house all night." + +"It’s only I, father," said Fanny. "Julia has the toothache, and I am +after the camphor bottle." + +"Oh, it’s you, Sunshine, is it? The camphire’s on the mantletry. Be +keerful and not break it, honey." + +While Fanny was after the camphor, Julia arose, and seizing her books, +threw them hastily into her bureau drawer. She then sprang back into bed +and when Fanny came in she was making a very appropriate moaning on +account of her aching tooth! + +"How cold you are, sister," said Fanny; "let me warm my shawl and put it +around you." + +"You can’t warm it, for their is neither fire nor wood," said Julia; "and +besides, my tooth is much better now." + +So Fanny lay down by her sister, and the two, purity and guilt, were soon +fast asleep, side by side, and the angel of innocence spread his broad +wing protectingly over the yellow locks of the one, while a serpent lay +coiled in the dark tresses of the other. + + + + + + CHAPTER III + + + RESULTING IN A BETROTHAL AND A TEMPEST + + +At the breakfast table next morning Julia’s pale face was noticed and +commented upon. + +"She had a violent toothache last night, which kept her awake," said +Fanny. + +"Now I think of it," said Mr. Middleton, "I wonder, Tempest, how you can +have the toothache, for you are always bragging about your handsome, +healthy teeth, and say you hain’t a rotten fang in your head." + +Julia colored, for what her father said was true, neither did she remember +of ever having had the toothache in her life; but quickly recovering +herself, she said, "Neither have I a decayed tooth. It was more of a +faceache, I suppose, than the genuine toothache." + +"Probably you have taken some cold," said Mr. Wilmot. + +"I think quite likely I have," retorted Julia, and so the toothache matter +was dismissed for the time. Mr. Miller, however, thought he could see in +it a plan of Julia’s to avoid going to school that day and when he heard +Mrs. Middleton say, "Julia, as it is so cold and chilly, perhaps you had +better not go out," he was rather surprised to hear her reply, "Oh, no, +mother; Mr. Miller is going with us and I would not miss of being there +for anything." + +So the party proceeded together to the schoolhouse. When school commenced +Julia took her books and going up to Mr. Wilmot, said, loudly enough for +Mr. Miller to hear: "Mr. Wilmot, do you know that you gave me a very hard +lesson for today?" + +"Yes, Julia," said he, "I know it is hard and long, and as you do not seem +well, I will excuse you from as much of it as you choose, or from the +whole of it, if you like." + +"No, no," said Julia; "Mr. Miller is here and I would like to show him +that I have improved since last winter, when, as I fear, I was often sadly +remiss in my studies. All I want to tell you is that if I do not recite as +well as usual, you mustn’t scold me a bit; will you?" + +"Oh, certainly not," said Mr. Wilmot, and then he added in a tone so low +that no one heard but Julia, "I could not scold you, dear Julia." + +Thus flattered, the young lady took her seat and for a time seemed very +intensely occupied with her lessons. At last she opened her portfolio and, +taking from it a sheet of foolscap, cast an exulting glance toward Fanny +and Mr. Miller, the latter of whom was watching her movements. She then +took her gold pencil and commenced scribbling something on the paper. By +the time her lesson was called she laid the paper on the desk, and +prepared to do honor to herself and teacher. The moving of the paper +attracted Mr. Wilmot’s notice, and going toward her, he very gently said, +"I presume you have no objection to letting me see what you have written +here." + +She at first put out her hand as if to prevent him from taking it, but at +last she suffered him to do so, but tried to look interestingly confused. +Mr. Wilmot read what was written and then smiling passed it to his friend, +who looked at it and saw that it was a piece of tolerably good blank +verse. + +"Is this your composition, Julia?" said Mr. Miller. + +"Yes, sir," she replied. + +"And have your ’notes’ always been of this nature?" asked Mr. Wilmot. + +"That, or something similar," said Julia. "I find no difficulty in +learning my lesson by once reading, and as I am very fond of poetry, I +like to employ the rest of my time in trying my powers at it!" + +Mr. Wilmot looked at Mr. Miller, as much as to say, "I hope you are +satisfied," and then proceeded to hear Julia’s lesson, which was +well-learned and well-recited. Julia’s recitation being over, Fanny’s +class was called. Fanny came hesitatingly, for she knew her lesson was but +poorly learned. That morning she had found under her desk a love letter +from Bill Jeffrey, and she and some of the other girls had spent so much +time in laughing over it, and preparing an answer, that she had scarcely +thought of her lesson. She got through with it, however, as well as she +could, and was returning to her seat when Mr. Miller called her to him and +said reprovingly, "Fanny, why did you not have a better lesson?" + +"Oh, Mr. Miller," she said, almost crying, "I did intend to, but I forgot +all about your being here"; and then, as a new thought struck her, she +said mischievously, "and besides I have spent all the morning writing an +answer to Bill Jeffrey’s love letter!" + +At this unlooked-for speech, all the scholars burst into a laugh and +directed their eyes toward the crestfallen Bill, who seemed so painfully +embarrassed that Fanny regretted what she had said, and as soon as school +was out for the morning she went to him and told him she was sorry for so +thoughtlessly exposing him to ridicule; "but," added she, "Billy, I’ll +tell you what, you mustn’t write me any more love letters, for ’tis not +right to do such things at school; neither need you bring me any more +candy or raisins. I don’t object to your giving me a nice big apple +occasionally, but candy and raisins you had better give to the little +children. And now to prove that I am really your friend, if you will get +that old dogeared arithmetic of yours, I will show you how to do some of +those hard sums which trouble you so." + +Billy was surprised. The butt of the school, he was accustomed to the +jeers of his companions, but such kindness, and from Fanny, too, was +unexpected. He, however, drew from his desk his old slate and arithmetic +and he and Fanny were soon deep in the mysteries of compound fractions. A +half hour passed away and at the end of that time Billy’s sums were done. + +"Now, Billy," said Fanny, "see that you do not send me any more letters, +and mind, too, and not wink at me so often; you will remember?" Bill gave +the required promise and Fanny bounded away in quest of her schoolmates, +who laughed at her for taking so much pains with such a dolt as Bill +Jeffrey. That afternoon Fanny resolved to retrieve her character as a +scholar; so she applied herself closely to her task, and before recitation +hour arrived she had learned every word of her lesson. But alas for poor +Fanny. She was always stumbling into some new difficulty, and fate, this +afternoon, seemed resolved to play a sorry trick upon her. + +The schoolhouse stood at the foot of a long, steep hill, which would have +been chosen for a capital sliding place by New York boys; but in Kentucky +the winters are, comparatively speaking, so mild that the boys know but +little of that rare fun, "sliding down hill." The winter of which we are +speaking was, however, unusually severe, and the schoolboys had persevered +until they had succeeded in making a tolerably nice sliding place, and +they had also furnished themselves with a goodly number of rather +rough-looking sleds, of which Bill Jeffrey owned the largest. The girls +were all anxious to try a ride down the hill, and none more so than Fanny; +but the boys would not lend their sleds, and the girls would not ride with +the boys, and as the latter always hid their precious sleighs, the girls +had as yet never succeeded in their wishes. But on this day, Bill Jeffrey, +touched by Fanny’s unlooked-for kindness, whispered to her, just as school +was commencing, that she might take his big sled at recess. + +This was a treat indeed, and when recess came, Fanny, with half a dozen +other girls, climbed to the top of the hill, and began piling on to Bill’s +old sled. It was settled that Fanny should guide the craft, and numerous +were the cautions of the girls that she should "mind and steer straight." + +"Oh, yes, I’ll do that," said Fanny; "but wouldn’t it be funny," added +she, "if we should make a mistake and go plump into the schoolhouse!" + +At last all was ready, and the vehicle got under way. At first it moved +slowly, and the loud, merry laugh of the girls rang out on the clear, cool +air; but each moment it increased in swiftness, and by the time it was +half-way down the hill, was moving at an astonishingly rapid rate. Fanny +lost her presence of mind and, with it, her ability to guide the sled, so +that they passed the point where they should have turned and made directly +for the schoolhouse door, which flew open, as once did the gates for the +famous John Gilpin. There was no entryway to the building, but as the sled +struck the door the jolt threw off all the girls except Fanny, who +manfully kept her seat; and so made her grand entrance into the +schoolroom, stopping not till she reached the stove, and partially +upsetting it, to the great astonishment of the teacher, visitor, and boys, +the latter of whom set up a loud huzza. Poor Fanny! ’Twas her first sled +ride, and she felt sure it would be her last; but she resolved to make the +best of it, so she looked up from under her curls and said very demurely, +"Please, Mr. Wilmot, may I stop at this station? I do not like being so +near the engine!" meaning the stove, whose proximity made her quarters a +little uncomfortable. + +Mr. Wilmot gave her permission to take her seat, which she readily did, +wondering why it was that she always managed to do something which made +her appear ridiculous, just when she wanted to appear the best. Her mishap +gave secret pleasure to Julia, who delighted to have Fanny appear as badly +as possible, and she felt particularly pleased when she saw that Fanny’s +strange ride had scattered all the ideas from her head, for the +afternoon’s lessons were but little better recited than the morning, and +at its close Julia gave her a look of malicious triumph, which Mr. Miller +observing, said, as if apologising for Fanny, that he was sure that she +had every word of her lesson before recess, but it was no wonder she was +somewhat disconcerted at the unexpected termination of her ride. Fanny +smiled gratefully upon him through her tears, which she could not +restrain; but her tears were like April showers—they did not last long, +and that night, at the supper table, when Mr. Miller related her adventure +to her father, she joined as gayly as any one in the laugh which followed. + +Julia was much displeased to think that Fanny’s "ridiculous conduct," as +she called it, should be told of and laughed at as if it were something +amusing. She was anxious, too, that Mr. Miller should draw his visit to a +close, but as he did not seem inclined to do so, she resolved to make the +most of it, and give him a few new ideas. She knew that Fanny had ever +been his favorite and she very naturally supposed that the reason of his +preference was because he thought she possessed a very lovely, amiable +disposition. She determined to make him think otherwise, and set herself +at work to execute a plan, which fully showed the heartless deception +which almost always characterized her actions. + +Fortune seemed to favor her, for after supper her father and mother +announced their intention of spending the evening at one of the +neighbors’, and soon after they left Mr. Wilmot, who had letters to write, +retired to his room, together with Mr. Miller. As soon as they were gone +Julia repaired to the negro quarters and, by dint of threats, flattery and +promises of reward, finally prevailed upon Luce to join with her in her +dark plot. They then went to Julia’s sleeping room and carefully opened +the closet door, so that every word of their conversation could be heard +in the adjoining room. + +Julia’s voice was strangely like her sister’s, and by means of imitating +her she hoped to deceive both Mr. Wilmot and Mr. Miller, who were startled +by a loud, angry voice, exclaiming, "Come, you black imp, no more lies, +you know you’ve stolen it, so just confess, and tell me where it is." + +The young gentlemen looked at each other in surprise, for the voice was +like Fanny’s, and yet it was so unnatural for her to be in such a passion +that they thought it impossible. Their fears were, however, soon confirmed +by Luce, who said, "Oh, Miss Fanny, Lor’ knows I never tached it. Now, +sartin I knows nothin’ ’bout it." + +"Hold your jaw, or I’ll slap your mouth for you, you lying thief!" said +Julia (alias Fanny). "Of course you’ve got it, for no one else has been in +here; so tell where you hid it." + +"Lordy massy! How can I tell, when I dun know nothin’ whar ’tis," said +Luce. + +"There, take, that to brighten up your ideas," said Fanny, and at the same +time there was, the sound of a blow, which was followed by an outcry from +Luce, who exclaimed, "Oh—oh—oh—Miss Fanny, don’t go for to whip me, ’case +I haint nothin to tell; if I had I’d tell right off. I haint seed your +hankercher ’tall. Mebby you’ve done drapped it somewhar." + +Just then the door opened, and Julia, again speaking naturally, was heard +to say, "Why, Fanny, what are you doing just as soon as mother is gone? +Luce, what is the matter?" + +"Oh, Miss Julia," replied Luce, "Miss Fanny done lost her fine hankercher, +and she say how I stole it, but I haint." + +"What makes you think Luce has got your handkerchief, Fanny?" asked Julia. + +"Because I left it on the table, and ’tisn’t there now; and no one has +been in the room except Luce," replied Fanny. + +"Very likely you have put it in your drawer and forgotten it; let me +look," said Julia. + +There was a moment’s silence, and then Julia was heard to exclaim, "There +it is, just as I thought. Here it is, safe in your box. I do wish, sister, +you would not be quite so hasty, but stop a little before you condemn +others." So saying, the party left the room. + +While this scene was taking place, Fanny was quietly seated by the fire in +the sitting room, getting her lesson for the next day. At last her eye +chanced to fall upon a purse which Julia was knitting for her father and +which she had promised to finish that night. + +"I wonder," said Fanny to herself—"I wonder where Julia is gone so long? +She told father she would finish his purse this evening, and he will scold +so, if it is not done, that I believe I’ll knit on it till she returns." + +Suiting the action to the word, she caught up the purse, and when Julia +returned to the sitting room, she found her sister busily engaged in +knitting for her. + +"Why, Julia," said Fanny, "where have you been so long; I though you were +never coming back, so I have been knitting on your purse, for I was afraid +you would not get it done, and then father would scold, you know." + +As Julia looked into her sister’s bright, innocent face and thought of all +her kindness, her conscience smote her for the wrong she had done, but +quickly hushing the faithful monitor, she thought, "Never mind; it is +natural for me to be bad. I cannot help it." + +Meantime the gentlemen above were discussing the conversation which they +had overheard. + +"Is it possible," said Mr. Miller, "that I have been so deceived in Fanny, +and that, after all, she is as passionate as her sister?" + +"As passionate as her sister," repeated Mr. Wilmot; "I think we have good +proof that she is much more so. I hope you are now convinced that Fanny is +not infallible, though I will confess I am surprised and disappointed, for +I thought she was really of a very gentle nature." + +Mr. Miller did not reply directly, but went on, as if speaking to himself, +"Oh, Fanny, Fanny, how has my idol fallen! I never would have believed it, +but for such convincing evidence." + +He was indeed sorely disappointed. He had always thought of Fanny as the +embodiment of almost every female virtue, and although she was so young, +hope had often whispered to him of a joyous future when she, whom her +father designated as "Sunshine," should also shed a halo of sunlight +around another fireside. But now the illusion was painfully dispelled, for +sooner would he have taken the Egyptian asp to his bosom than chosen for a +companion one whom he knew to possess a hasty, violent temper. + +Next morning he took leave of Mr. Middleton’s family. When it came Fanny’s +turn to bid him good-by, she noticed the absence of his accustomed +cordiality, and wondered much what she had done to displease him. That +night she wept herself to sleep thinking of it, while Julia, secretly +exulting in her sister’s uneasiness, laughed at her for her foolishness, +and said, "It was probably a mere fancy, and even if it were not; what +matter was it? What did she care for Mr. Miller’s good or bad opinion? She +mustn’t expect everybody to pet and caress her just as her father did, who +was an old fool anyway, and petted her and her dogs alternately." This +kind of reasoning did not convince Fanny, and for many days her face wore +a sad, troubled expression. + +Thus the winter passed away. Spring came, and with it came an offer to Mr. +Wilmot of a very lucrative situation as teacher in a school in Frankfort. +At first he hesitated about accepting it, for there was, in the old rough +stone house, an attraction far greater than the mere consideration of +dollars and cents. Julia at, last settled the matter, by requesting him to +accept the offer, and then urge her father to let her go to Frankfort to +school also. + +"And why do you wish to go there, Julia?" said Mr. Wilmot, laying his hand +on her dark, glossy hair. + +"Because," she answered, "it will be so lonely here when you are gone." + +"And why will it be lonely, dearest Julia?" continued he. + +"Oh," said she, looking up very innocently in his face, "you are the only +person who understands me; by all others, whatever I do or say is +construed into something bad. I wish you were my brother, for then I might +have been better than I am." + +"Oh, I do not wish I was your brother," said Mr. Wilmot, "for then I could +never have claimed a dearer title, which I hope now to do at some future +time." + +Then followed a declaration of love, which Julia had long waited most +anxiously for. Most eloquently did Mr. Wilmot pour out the whole tide of +his affection for the beautiful but sinful girl, who, in a very becoming +and appropriate manner, murmured an acknowledgment of requited love. Thus +the two were betrothed. + +And truly it was a fitting time for such a betrothal. The air had been hot +and sultry all day, and now the sky was overspread with dark clouds, while +everything indicated an approaching storm. While Mr. Wilmot was yet +speaking, it burst upon them with great violence. Peal after peal of +thunder followed each other, in rapid succession, and just as Julia +whispered a promise to be Mr. Wilmot’s forever, a blinding sheet of +lightning lit up for a moment her dark features, and was instantly +succeeded by a crash, which shook the whole house from its foundation, and +drew from Julia a cry of terror, which brought Fanny to see what was the +matter, and made Mr. Middleton swear, "Thar was noise enough from the +tempest outdoors, without the ’Tempest’ in the house raising such a devil +of a fuss!" + + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + + DR. LACEY APPEARS UPON THE SCENE + + +When Mr. Middleton was spoken to on the subject of sending Julia to +Frankfort, he at first refused outright. "No," said he, "indeed she shan’t +go! What does she want of any more flummerdiddle notions? What she does +know is a damage to her." + +"But do you not wish to give your daughters every possible advantage?" +said Mr. Wilmot. + +"Who’s said anything about my daughters?" said Mr. Middleton. "It’s nobody +but Tempest, and she’s always kickin’ up some boobery. Now if ’twas +Sunshine, why, I might—but no, neither of ’em shall go. It’s all stuff, +the whole on’t." + +So saying, he turned on his heel and walked off, while Julia burst into +tears and repaired to her own room, whither she was soon followed by her +mother, who tried to console her. Said she, "Why, Julia, you don’t take +the right course with your father. Why do you not propose having your +sister accompany you? For, if you go, she will, and you know she can +always coax father to do as she pleases." + +This was rather humiliating to Julia, but she concluded it was her only +alternative, so she dried her eyes, and seeking out her sister, very soon +talked her into a strong desire to try the mysteries of a school in +Frankfort, and also drew from her a promise to try her powers of argument +upon her father. Accordingly, that evening Fanny made an attack upon him, +and as her mother had predicted, she was perfectly successful. It was +settled that she and Julia should both go, and the next morning early Mr. +Middleton set off for Frankfort to find "as smart a boarding place for his +gals as anybody had." There was as yet no boarding house connected with +the school, and he was obliged to find a place for them in some one of the +numerous boarding houses with which Frankfort abounds. He at last decided +upon a very genteel establishment, kept by a Mrs. Crane, who at first +hesitated about receiving into her family persons who possessed so rough +and shabby-looking a father. + +But Mr. Middleton brought her to a decision by saying, "what the deuce you +waiting for? Is it because I’ve got on cowhide stogies and a home-made +coat? Thunder and lightning! Don’t you know I’m old Middleton, worth at +least two hundred thousand?" + +This announcement changed the current of Mrs. Crane’s ideas. The daughters +were not rough, if the father was, so she decided to take them, and for +the very moderate sum of seven dollars per week, promised to give them all +the privileges of her house. The first day of June was fixed on for them +to leave home and at sunrise Mr. Middleton’s carriage stood at the door, +waiting for the young ladies to make their appearance. Julia had long been +ready and was waiting impatiently for Fanny, who was bidding the servants +an affectionate good-bye. Each one had received from her some little token +of love, and now they all stood in one corner of the yard, to look at +their darling as long as possible. + +"Lor’ bless her," said one; "Kentuck hain’t many like her, nor never will +have." + +"No, nor Frankfort nuther," said a second. While a third added, "No, and I +reckon heaven hadn’t nuther!" + +To which a fourth responded, "Amen." + +Here old Aunt Katy, who had nursed Mr. Middieton and his children after +him, hobbled up to Fanny, and laying her hard, shriveled black hand on her +young mistress’ bright locks, said, "The Lord who makes the wind blow easy +like on the sheared lamb, take keer of my sweet child and bring her back +agin to poor old Aunt Katy, who’ll be all dark and lonesome, when +Sunshine’s done gone." + +This was regarded as a wonderful speech by the negroes, and as none of +them could hope to equal it, they contented themselves by lustily blowing +their trombones and wiping the same on their shirt sleeves, or the corner +of their aprons. At last the good-byes were all said, Julia merely noticed +the blacks with a slight nod, and then sprang nimbly into the carriage, +which disappeared from view just as the negroes struck up in a loud, clear +and not unmusical tone: + + "Oh, it’s lonesome now on the old plantation, + It’s lonesome now on the old plantation, + It’s lonesome now on the old plantation, + Case Sunshine’s gone away." + +"Stop your yelp, can’t you?" said Mr. Middleton, but his voice indicated +that he would not be very much displeased even if they did not obey, so +they tuned their pipes still louder, and this time the six dogs joined in +the chorus, with a long and mournful howl. + +"Thar, that’ll do," said Mr. Middleton, "now to your work, quick; and mind +the one that works best this week shall go Saturday and carry Miss Crane +some strawberries!" + +The negroes needed no other incentive to work than the prospect before +them of going to see Fanny. Never had Mr. Middleton had so much +accomplished in one week. When Friday night came, it was hard telling +which was the favored one. At last it was settled that Ike should go to +Frankfort, and the rest should have a sort of holiday. Ike was a sprightly +negro boy of seventeen, and almost idolized his young mistress Fanny. Long +before "sun up" (a favorite expression in Kentucky for sunrise), he had +filled his basket with strawberries, and just as the first rays of +sunlight streaked the eastern hills, he started on his mission, laden with +numerous messages of love for "sweet Miss Fanny," and a big cranberry pie +from Aunt Judy, who was "sartin the baby wanted some of old Judy’s +jimcracks by this time." + +Meantime Julia and Fanny had become tolerably well established both in +school and at Mrs. Crane’s. Julia was perfectly delighted with her new +quarters, for she said "everything was in style, just as it should be," +and she readily adopted all the "city notions." But poor Fanny was +continually committing some blunder. She would forget to use her napkin, +or persist in using her knife instead of her four-tined silver fork. These +little things annoyed Julia excessively, and numerous were the lectures +given in secret to Fanny, who would laugh merrily at her sister’s distress +and say she really wished her father would dine some day at Mrs. Crane’s +table. + +"Heaven forbid that he should!" said Julia. "I should be mortified to +death." + +"They would not mind his oddities," said Fanny, "for I overheard Mrs. +Crane telling the exquisitely fashionable Mrs. Carrington that our father +was ’a quizzical old savage, but rich as a nabob, and we should +undoubtedly inherit a hundred thousand dollars apiece.’ And then Mrs. +Carrington said, ’Oh, is it possible? One can afford to patronize them.’ +And then she added something else which I think I’ll not tell you." + +"Oh, do," said Julia. "It too bad to raise my curiosity and not gratify +it." + +"Well, then," said Fanny, "Mrs. Carrington said, ’There is a rumor that +the eldest Miss Middleton is engaged to Mr. Wilmot. I wonder at it, for +with her extreme beauty and great fortune, she could command a more +eligible match than a poor pedagogue.’" + +The next morning at breakfast Mrs. Crane informed her boarders that she +expected a new arrival the next day, Friday. She said, "It is a new +gentleman from New Orleans. His name is Dr. Lacey. His parents were +natives of Boston, Massachusetts, but he was born in New Orleans, and will +inherit from his father a large fortune; but as he wished for a +profession, he chose that of medicine. He is a graduate of Yale College +and usually spends his summers North, so this season he stops in +Frankfort, and honors my house with his presence. He is very handsome and +agreeable, and these young ladies might put a lock and key on their +hearts." + +The last part of this speech was directed to Julia, who blushed deeply, +and secretly wondered if Dr. Lacey were as handsome as Mr. Wilmot. She +frequently found herself thinking about him during the day, but Fanny +never gave him a thought until evening, when, as she and her sister were +together in their room, the latter suddenly exclaimed, "I wonder if Dr. +Lacey will be here at breakfast tomorrow morning." + +"And if he is," said Fanny, "I suppose you want me to be very careful to +use my fork, and break my egg correctly." + +"I think it would be well for you always to try and show as much good +breeding as possible," said Julia. + +"Well," returned Fanny, "I reckon this Dr. Lacing or Dr. Lacework—what’s +his name?—will ever be anything to us, for I am sure he’d never think of +me, and you are engaged to a man who is much better than any of your New +Orleans pill bags." + +Little did Fanny dream how closely the "New Orleans pill bags" were to be +connected with the rest of her life. Julia said nothing but probably +thought more. + +When the young ladies entered the breakfast room next morning they noticed +seated opposite them a tall, dark, handsome young man, whom Mrs. +Carrington introduced to them as Dr. Lacey. There was something remarkably +pleasing in his manner, and before breakfast was over he had completely +won Fanny’s good opinion by kindly breaking her egg for her, and when she +had the misfortune to drop the fork, he drew the attention of the company +from her by relating an anecdote on himself, which was that he was once +invited to a dinner party at the Hon. Henry Clay’s, and as he was trying +to be very graceful and polite, he unfortunately upset his plate, the +contents of which, together with his knife and fork, were deposited in his +lap. This story raised such a laugh that all forgot Fanny, who gave Dr. +Lacey such a look of gratitude that after breakfast he asked Mrs. Crane +who the pale, blue-eyed girl was, and received about the same information +that Mrs. Carrington had received concerning her. + +That day Mr. Wilmot’s eyes were not as handsome nor his teeth as white as +usual in the estimation of Julia, who often found herself wondering why he +did not wear whiskers. That evening he called at Mrs. Crane’s and for the +first time in her life Julia was not much pleased to see him. He, however, +rose ten per cent in her estimation when she saw the familiar and cordial +manner with which Dr. Lacey treated him. They talked as though they were +old and dear friends. + +After Mr. Wilmot had left, Dr. Lacey said, "Why, that Wilmot is a +remarkably intelligent man and very agreeable." + +Then turning to Mrs. Carrington, he added, "Let me see—is he a teacher?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Carrington, "and these young ladies are his pupils, and +report says he looks after the heart of one of them as well as the head." + +"Well," continued he, "whichever one is favored with his preference should +feel honored, for he is a capital fellow." Just then his eye fell upon an +elegant piano which stood in the room and he asked Mrs. Carrington to +favor him with some music. + +"Perhaps Miss Middleton will oblige you," said Mrs. Carrington, looking at +Julia. + +"Thank you," said Julia, "I am just taking lessons," so Mrs. Carrington +sat down to the instrument, and as Julia saw how skillfully her white, +jewelled fingers touched the keys, she resolved to spare no pains to +become as fine a player as Mrs. Carrington, particularly as she saw that +Dr. Lacey was very fond of music and kept calling for piece after piece +till the evening was somewhat advanced. + +"You ought to play, golden locks," said he to Fanny, at the same time +taking one of her long yellow curls in his hand. + +"I am taking lessons," said Fanny, "but I make awkward work, for my +fingers are all thumbs, as you might know by my dropping that four-tined +pitchfork this morning!" + +Dr. Lacey laughed heartily at this and called her an "original little +piece," at the same time saying, "You remind me of my sister Anna." + +"Where does she live?" asked Fanny. + +Dr. Lacey sighed as he answered, "For three years she has lived in heaven; +three long years to us, who loved her so dearly." + +Fanny observed that he seemed agitated while speaking of his sister, so +she dared not ask him more about her, although she wished very much to do +so. Perhaps he read her wishes in her face, for he went on to tell her +more of his sister, who, he said, drooped day by day, and they took her to +Cuba, but she daily grew worse, and often spoke of dying and heaven, and +then one bright summer morning she passed away from them, and they buried +her under a group of dark orange trees. That night Fanny dreamed of sweet +Anna Lacey, sleeping so quietly in her lone grave, far off ’neath the +orange trees of Cuba. Julia had dreams, too, but of a different nature. In +her fancy she beheld Dr. Lacey at her feet, with his handsome person, +princely fortune, and magnificent home near New Orleans, while off in the +dim distance loomed up a dark coffin, in which was the cold, pale form of +one whom she knew too well. Was her dream an omen of the coming future? We +shall see. + +Next morning just as the town clock rang out the hour of eight, a +strange-looking vehicle, to which was attached a remarkably poor-looking +horse, was seen picking its way slowly through the upper part of Main +street, Frankfort. The driver of this establishment was a negro boy, whom +we readily recognize as our friend Ike. He was taking it leisurely through +the town, stopping before every large "smart" looking house to +reconnoiter, and see if it resembled the one his master had described. + +At last he was accosted by a young African, who called out, "Ho, thar, old +boy! What you keepin’ yer eyes peeled and yer’ mouth open for? Is you +catchin’ flies?" + +"No, sar," replied Ike. "I’s tryin’ to find Miss Crane’s boardin’ house." + +"Oh, yes; wall, it’s up t’other way. You jist turn that old rackerbone of +your’n straight round and turn down that ar street, whar you see that +steeple, and, the fust house on the corner is Miss Crane’s. But say, is +you and that ar quadruped jist out of the ark?" + +"I dun know nothin’ ’bout yer ark," said Ike, whose Scripture knowledge +was rather limited, "but I ’longs to Marster Josh, and I’m goin’ to see +Miss Fanny—and now I think of it, won’t you ride?" + +"Lord, no," said the negro; "I’m in a great hurry; goin’ arter the doctor +for ole miss, who’s sartin she’s goin’ for to die this time." + +"You don’t seem in much of a hurry," said Ike. + +"No," returned the other; "old miss has died a heap o’ times, by spells, +so I reckon she’ll hang on this time till I git back, jist so she can jaw +me for being gone so long." + +So they parted, the stranger negro to go for the doctor and Ike to go to +Mrs. Crane’s, with his berries, and Aunt Judy’s cranberry pie. He had +often wondered during his ride whether Fanny would not give him a piece of +the pie. As often as this thought entered his brain, he would turn down +the white napkin, and take a peep at the tempting pastry; then he would +touch it with his fingers and finally take it up and smell of it just a +little! + +While he was making his way into Mrs. Crane’s kitchen, Julia and Fanny +were in their room, the windows of which were open and looked out upon a +balcony, which extended entirely around the house. There was no school +that day, and Fanny was just wishing she could hear from home when a +servant entered the room and said there was a boy in the kitchen, who +wished to see Miss Fanny. + +"A boy want to see me," said Fanny; "who can it be?" + +"Reckon he’s from yer home ’case he says how he belongs to Marster +Middleton," said the negro girl. + +"Oh, joy!" exclaimed Fanny, "somebody from home; how glad I am. Come, +Julia, won’t you go down, too?" + +"No, indeed," said Julia, scornfully, "I am not so anxious to see a greasy +nigger. I hope you will not take it into your head to ask him up here." + +But Fanny did not answer, for she was already half-way down the stairs. +Going to the kitchen she found Ike and seemed as delighted to see him as +though his skin had been snowy white. Ike delivered all his messages and +then presented Aunt Judy’s pie. + +"Dear Aunt Judy," said Fanny, "how kind she is." Then seizing a knife she +cut a liberal piece for Ike, who received it with many thanks. + +"Now, Ike," said she, "you must remain here until I go out and get a +ribbon for Aunt Judy’s cap, and some tobacco for old Aunt Katy." So saying +she ran upstairs to her room. + +When she entered it, Julia exclaimed, "In the name of the people, what +have you got now?" + +"Oh, a pie, which Aunt Judy sent me," said Fanny. + +"How ridiculous," answered Julia; "I don’t think Mrs. Crane would thank +Aunt Judy for sending pies to her house." + +"Mrs. Crane need know nothing about it, and would not care if she did," +said Fanny, and then she added, "Ike is downstairs, and he says father is +coming after us in two or three weeks." + +"Good heavens," said Julia; "what is he coming for? Why does he not send a +servant?" + +"And why cannot father come?" asked Fanny. + +"Because," answered Julia, "who wants that old codger here? A pretty +figure he’d cut, I think. I should be ashamed of him; and so would you, if +you knew anything." + +"I know he is odd," said Fanny; "but he is my father, and as such I would +not be ashamed of him." + +"Well, I am ashamed to own that he is my father, anyway," answered Julia; +"but where are you going now?" she continued, as she saw her sister +putting on her bonnet. + +"I am going to buy some ribbon for Aunt Judy, some tobacco for Aunt Katy, +and some candy for the children," answered Fanny. + +"Well, I do believe you haven’t common sense," said Julia, "but where is +your money to buy all these things?" + +"Oh," said Fanny, "I’ve concluded not to go and hear Fanny Kemble tonight. +I’d rather spend the money for the servants; it will do them so much +good." + +"You certainly are a fool," said Julia. Fanny had been told that often, so +she did not reply, but hastened downstairs and was soon in the street. As +she turned the corner she could see the windows of her room, and the whole +length of the balcony on that side of the building. Looking in that +direction she saw Dr. Lacey sitting out on the balcony and so near her +window that he must have heard all the conversation between herself and +her sister! She thought, "Well, he of course thinks me a silly little +dunce; but I do like our blacks, and if I ever own any of them, I’ll first +teach them to read and then send them all to Liberia." Full of this new +plan, she forgot Dr. Lacey and ere she was aware of it had reached the +store. She procured the articles she wished for, and returning to Mrs. +Crane’s, gave them to Ike, who was soon on his way home. + +At supper that evening the conversation turned upon Fanny Kemble and the +expected entertainment. "I suppose you are all going," said Mrs. Crane to +her boarders. They all answered in the affirmative except Fanny, who was +about to reply, when Dr. Lacey interrupted her by saying, "Miss Fanny, +will you allow me to accompany you to hear Mrs. Butler this evening?" + +Fanny was amazed. Was it possible that the elegant Dr. Lacey had honored +her with an invitation to accompany him to the literary treat! She was too +much surprised to answer him, until he said, "Do not refuse me, Miss +Fanny, for I am resolved to have you go!" She then gracefully accepted his +polite invitation, and at the same time glancing toward Julia and Mrs. +Carrington, she saw that the former frowned darkly, while the latter +looked displeased. This dampened her happiness somewhat, and as soon as +supper was over she hurried to her room. + +Mrs. Carrington was a gay, fashionable woman, and was just as willing to +receive attention from unmarried gentlemen now as she had been in her +girlish days. Her husband was an officer in the United States army and was +absent a great part of the time, but she had never cared much for him, so +she managed to pass the time of his absence very happily in flirting with +every handsome wealthy young gentleman who came in her way. When Dr. Lacey +appeared, she immediately appropriated him to herself. ’Tis true, she +somewhat feared Julia might become a rival, but of the modest, unassuming +little Fanny, she had never once thought, and was greatly surprised when +Dr. Lacey offered to escort her to the reading. She had resolved on having +his company herself, and when she saw the frown on Julia’s face, she +flattered herself that she could yet prevent Fanny’s going. + +Accordingly, after supper, she asked Julia to go with her for a moment to +her room. Julia had become perfectly charmed with the fascinating manners +of Mrs. Carrington, so she cheerfully assented, and the two proceeded +together to her richly furnished apartments. When there, Mrs. Carrington +said, "Miss Middleton, do you not think your sister too young to accept +the attentions of any gentleman, at least one who is so much of a stranger +to the family?" + +Julia well knew that the fact of Dr. Lacey’s being a stranger was of no +consequence in Mrs. Carrington’s estimation, but she quickly answered, +"Yes, I do; but what can be done now?" + +"Oh," said Mrs. Carrington, "your sister is very gentle and if we go to +her and state the case as it is, I am confident she will yield." + +So they went to Fanny’s room, where they found her sitting by the window, +thinking how much pleasure she would enjoy that night. + +Julia commenced operations by saying, "Fanny, what made you promise Dr. +Lacey that you would go with him tonight?" + +"Why," said Fanny, "was there anything wrong in it?" + +Here Mrs. Carrington’s soft voice chimed in, "Nothing very wrong, dear +Fanny, but it is hardly proper for a young school girl to appear in +public, attended by a gentleman who is not her brother or cousin." + +Poor Fanny! Her heart sank, for she was afraid she would have to give up +going after all; but a thought struck her, and she said, "Well, then, it +is not proper for Julia to go with Mr. Wilmot, and she has promised to do +so." + +"That is very different," said Mrs. Carrington; "Julia is engaged to Mr. +Wilmot, and unless you are engaged to Dr. Lacey," continued she, +sarcastically, "it will not be proper at all for you to go with him." + +"But I promised I would," said Fanny. + +"That you can easily remedy," answered Mrs. Carrington. "Just write him a +note and I will send it to him." + +Thus beset, poor Fanny sat down and wrote, as Mrs. Carrington dictated, +the following note: + + + +"DR. LACEY: + +"SIR—Upon further reflection I think it proper to decline your polite +invitation for tonight. + + "Yours very respectfully, + + "FANNY MIDDLETON." + + + +"That will do," said Mrs. Carrington; and ringing the bell, she dispatched +a servant to carry the note to Dr. Lacey. + +"You are a good girl to submit so readily," said Mrs. Carrington, laying +her white hand on Fanny’s head. But Fanny’s eyes were full of tears, and +she did not answer; and Mrs. Carrington, sure of Dr. Lacey’s attendance +that evening, left the room exulting in the result of her plan. In a short +time she deserted to the parlor, where she found Mr. Wilmot with Julia, +but no Dr. Lacey, neither did he make his appearance at all, and after +waiting impatiently for a time, she was at last obliged to accept the arm +of the poor pedagogue, which was rather unwillingly offered, for Mr. +Wilmot greatly preferred having Julia all to himself. She had become as +dear to him as his own life and, in his opinion, her character was like +her face—perfect. Deluded man! ’Twas well that he died before he had come +to a knowledge of her sinfulness. + +But to return to Fanny. After she was left alone by her sister, she threw +herself upon the sofa, and burst into tears; but at length, wiping them +away, she arose and went down to the parlor, determined to have a nice +time practicing her music lesson. It was rather hard and with untiring +patience she played it over and over, until she was suddenly startled by a +voice behind her, saying, "Really, Miss Fanny, you are persevering." +Looking up she saw Dr. Lacey, who had entered unperceived. + +"Why, Dr. Lacey," said she, "how you frightened me! Why are you not at the +reading?" + +"Because," answered he, "when my lady breaks her engagement, I think I, +too, can remain at home. But why did you change your mind, Miss Fanny? I +thought you were anxious to go." + +Fanny blushed painfully, and the tears came to her eyes, but she replied, +"I was anxious to go, but they thought I had better not." + +"And who is they?" asked the doctor; "and why did they think you had +better not go?" + +Fanny answered, "Mrs. Carrington and Julia said I was too young to go out +with—" + +"With such a bad man as I am," said Dr. Lacey, laughing. + +"Oh, no," said Fanny; "they do not think you bad; they said with any +gentleman." + +"Too young, are you?" said Dr. Lacey. "How old are you, Fanny?" + +"I was sixteen last May," she replied. + +"Sixteen; just as old as Anna was when she died, and just as old as my +mother was when she was married; so it seems you are not too young to die, +or to be married either, if you are too young to go out with me," said Dr. +Lacey. + +Fanny did not reply; and he continued, "Whom would you have gone with if +you had not spent your money this morning for those old aunts?" + +Fanny started; and giving him a searching look, was about to reply, when +he anticipated her by saying, "Yes, Fanny, I overheard your conversation +this morning, and I cannot sufficiently admire your generous self-denial. +I have heard Fanny Kemble two or three times, so I did not care to hear +her again; but I decided to go for the pleasure of having you hear her; +but as you did not choose to go, I have remained here with you, and wish +to have you tell me something about your parents and your home, and also +wish you to ask me to go there some time." + +Fanny answered, hesitatingly, "I am afraid you would not like to go there, +Dr. Lacey." + +"Why not?" said he. "Do you not like your home?" + +"Oh, yes, very much," she replied; "but father is a little odd, and you +might feel inclined to laugh at him; but he is very kind, and if you could +forget his roughness, you would like him." + +"I know I shall like him, just because he is your father," said Dr. Lacey. + +He then turned the conversation upon other subjects, and Fanny found him +so agreeable that she never thought of the hour until Mr. Wilmot, Mrs. +Carrington and Julia suddenly entered the parlor. + +"Upon my word," said Mrs. Carrington, "you have both stolen a march upon +us." + +"I hope you have been agreeably entertained, Dr. Lacey," said Julia, in an +ironical tone. + +"I assure you I have," said he, warmly "I do not remember having passed so +pleasant an evening for a long, long time." + +"I dare say not; Fanny is usually very interesting," was, Julia’s +contemptuous reply, and as Mr. Wilmot just then took his leave, she very +haughtily left the room and went upstairs, muttering to herself, "Foiled +for the first time in my life." + +From this time nothing of particular importance occurred for two or three +weeks, except that Dr. Lacey seemed each day to grow fonder of Fanny, +which greatly annoyed Mrs. Carrington and Julia, both of whom spared no +pains to make Fanny appear in as bad a light as possible. But Dr. Lacey +understood their maneuvers, and whenever they were present seemed to take +delight in being very attentive to Fanny. He ardently desired to see the +father of the two girls, and ere long his wish was gratified. But of this +we will speak in another chapter. + + + + + + CHAPTER V + + + THE FATAL LETTER + + +Julia and Fanny had been gone from home about four weeks when Mr. +Middleton suddenly determined "to go and see his gals" and bring them +home. Accordingly he "fixed up right smart," as he thought, which meant +that he took off his beard and put on "a bran new pair of jeens." He +preferred driving his own carriage, so he set off alone for Frankfort. + +It was Friday morning, and as his daughters were in school, he stalked +into Mrs. Crane’s parlor to wait for them. Spying the piano, he sat down +to it, and commenced producing a series of unearthly sounds, not +altogether unlike the fashionable music of the present day. Mrs. +Carrington chanced to be crossing the hall and, hearing the noise from the +parlor, looked in. As her eye fell upon the strange-looking, giant form of +Mr. Middleton, she uttered a very delicate scream, and as she just then +saw Dr. Lacey entering the house, she staggered back a few paces, and +tried to faint very gracefully. But the doctor caught her in his arms just +in time to restore her to consciousness! + +Mr. Middleton now came toward them, exclaiming, "Lightning guns! What’s to +pay now? Skeered at me, are you, madam or miss, whichever you be? I won’t +hurt a har of your soft skull!" + +"Ugh-u-u!" said Mrs. Carrington, shrinking from him in disgust, as he +advanced toward her, and laid his large hand on her head, "just to see," +as he said, "if she were made of anything besides jewelry, curls and +paint." + +At this allusion to her brilliant color, Mrs. Carrington relieved Dr. +Lacey from the delightful duty of supporting her, and disappeared up the +stairs, saying in no very gentle tones, "What an old brute!" + +"Fire away thar," called our Mr. Middleton. "I am an old brute, I +suppose." + +"But your right name is Mr. Middleton, I conclude," said Dr. Lacey. + +Mr. Middleton started and answered, "How d’ye know that? Just as you’d +know his satanic majesty, if he should appear to you?" + +"Something upon that principle," said Dr. Lacey, laughing, "but," he +continued, "I am glad to see you, Mr. Middleton. I suppose you have come +to visit your daughters." + +"Yes, and to take them home and let their mother and the rest of the +blacks see them," answered Mr. Middleton; then after a pause he added, +"They’ll be right glad to see me, I reckon, or at least Sunshine will." + +"Who is Sunshine?" asked Dr. Lacey. + +"Well, now," said Mr. Middleton, "here you’ve lived with ’em four weeks +and don’t know that I call one Tempest and t’other Sunshine, and if you’ve +any wit, you’ll know which is Sunshine." + +Just then a voice was heard to exclaim, "There, I told you father was +here. I hear him now talking about Sunshine," and Fanny rushed in, and +throwing her arms around her father’s neck, kissed again and again his +rough cheek, while he suddenly felt the need of his red and yellow cotton +handkerchief, and muttered something about the "roads" being so infernal +dusty that they made a fellow’s eyes smart! + +Then turning to Julia, who still stood in the door, he said, "Come, +Tempest, none of your pranks! Come here and shake your old pap’s paw. You +needn’t be afeared of this young spark, for he knows I’m your pap, and he +hain’t laughed at me neither." So Julia advanced and shook her father’s +hand with a tolerably good grace. + +"I’m come for you to go home and see the folks," said Mr. Middleton; "so +you pick up your duds—and mind not to take a cussed bandbox—and after +dinner we’ll start for home." + +"It wants an hour of dinner time," said Julia, "and as we are not hungry, +we can start in a few moments, if you like." + +"Fury-ation," said Mr. Middleton, "I wonder if we can. Well, start on then +afoot, if you’re in such a hurry. I shan’t budge an inch till I’ve had my +dinner; besides, I want to see Mr. Wilmot." + +Julia saw that she must submit to the mortification of seeing her father +at Mrs. Crane’s dinner table, and with a beating heart she heard the bell +summon them to the dining room. Mrs. Carrington did not appear—her nerves +had received too great a shock—and for that Julia was thankful. Dr. Lacey +sat by her father and paid him every possible attention. + +"Will you take soup, Mr. Middleton?" asked Mrs. Crane. + +"What kind of soup? Beef soup, or mud turkle?" + +"It is vermicelli," said Mrs. Crane, hardly able to keep her face +straight. + +"Vermifuge—vermifuge," repeated Mr. Middleton. "That’s almighty queer +stuff to make soup on. No. I’m ’bleeged to you; I ain’t in need of that ar +medicine." + +Julia reddened, while Fanny burst into a laugh and said, "Father isn’t +much used to French soups, I think." + +"Use your napkin, father," softly whispered Julia. + +"What shall I use that for?" said he. "My trousers are all tobacco spit +now, and grease won’t hurt ’em any now. Halloo! Here waiter, bring me a +decent fork, for Lord knows I can’t eat with this here shovel and if I +take my fingers Tempest’ll raise a row de dow." + +The servant looked at his mistress, who said, "Samuel, bring Mr. Middleton +a steel fork." + +When the dessert was brought in Mr. Middleton again exclaimed, as he took +his plate of pudding, "Now what can this be?" + +"It is tapioca pudding," said Mrs. Crane. + +"Tap-an-oakky," returned Mr. Middleton. "Well, if you don’t have the +queerest things to eat! You ought to come to my house. We don’t have any +your chicken fixin’s nor little three-cornered hankerchers laid out at +each plate." + +At last, to Julia’s great relief, dinner was over, and she got her father +started for home. Suddenly Mr. Middleton exclaimed, "That ar doctor is a +mighty fine chap. Why don’t you set your cap for him, Sunshine?" + +"It would be of no use, father," answered Fanny. + +"Wall, if I’m not mistaken, he’s laid his snare for a bird, and I don’t +care how soon you fall into it, darling," said Mr. Middleton. + +"How ridiculous!" exclaimed Julia. + +"Ho now, jealous, are you, Tempest?" said her father. "What in thunder do +you think he’ll want of you, who are engaged to Mr. Wilmot?" + +This was a truth which had troubled Julia, and she greatly regretted her +engagement, for she well knew Dr. Lacey never would think of her as long +as he thought she belonged to another. She had watched with a jealous eye +the growing intimacy between him and Fanny, and resolved to leave no means +untried to prevent a union between them, and to secure the doctor for +herself. To do this she knew she must break her engagement with Mr. +Wilmot, and also give Dr. Lacey a bad opinion of her sister. She felt sure +of success, for when did she undertake anything and fail? Sinful girl! She +was freed from her engagement in a way she little dreamed of. + +Four weeks from the time of her first visit home, word came that Mr. +Wilmot was sick and would not be able to teach that day. He had been +unwell for several days, and next morning it was announced that he had the +typhoid fever. Fanny’s first impulse was to go and see him, but Julia +prevented her by saying that he would send for her when he wanted her. + +That evening Dr. Lacey told Julia that Mr. Wilmot had expressed a wish to +see her. She went rather unwillingly, and something in her manner must +have betrayed it, for he seemed troubled, and regarded her with an anxious +look. She however manifested no affection, and but very little interest +for him, and inwardly resolved that when she came again her sister should +accompany her. That night he grew worse, and as there was of course no +school, Julia hired some one to take herself and sister home. Earnestly +did Fanny entreat her to remain and watch over Mr. Wilmot. + +"I shall do no such thing," said Julia. "It would not be proper, and I +should be talked about." + +"Well, then," said Fanny, "I shall stay till mother sends for me. I do not +care if I am talked about." + +This rather pleased Julia, who said, "Well, you can stay if you like. I +dare say you care more for him than I do, and you can tell him so, if you +please." + +"Oh, Julia," said Fanny, "what has changed you so toward Mr. Wilmot?" + +"Nothing in particular," replied Julia. "I never liked him very much." + +So Julia started for home, while Fanny took her station by the bedside of +her beloved teacher. When Julia reached home, she found that her father +had left the day before for Missouri. He owned land there, and as he had +gone to make some improvements on it, he would probably be absent two +months. Julia carelessly told her mother of Mr. Wilmot’s illness, and that +Fanny had stayed to watch him. When Mrs. Middleton heard this, her +maternal fears were roused lest her daughter should take the fever, and in +a few days she went herself to Frankfort to bring Fanny home. + +She found Mr. Wilmot very ill, but not as yet dangerously so, and after +staying a day, she announced her intention of taking Fanny home. + +"Why not leave her?" said Dr. Lacey. "She seems peculiarly adapted to a +sick room, and will do him more good than a dozen physicians." + +"Yes, let her stay," said Mr. Wilmot, and drawing Mrs. Middleton closely +to him, he whispered, "Tell Julia to come to me, will you?" + +Mrs. Middleton promised that she would, but persisted in taking Fanny. +When Mr. Wilmot’s message was given to Julia, she said, "No, indeed, I’ll +not go. I could do him no good." + +Ike was sent to Frankfort every day to inquire after Mr. Wilmot, and see +if anything was wanted, and each night Fanny waited anxiously for his +return. As soon as she saw him enter the wood, she would run to him, and +inquire for Mr. Wilmot. Julia, however, manifested no anxiety whatever. +She would not have acknowledged that she hoped he would die, and yet each +time that she heard he was better her spirits sank, for fear he would yet +live. At last Ike brought to Fanny the joyful intelligence that the crisis +was passed, and Mr. Wilmot was out of danger. + +That night, in the solitude of her chamber, Julia communed with herself as +follows: "And so he’ll live after all. Well, I may as well let him know at +once that I will not marry him." So saying, she opened her portfolio, and +wrote the following note: + + + +"Mr. Wilmot: + +"Sir—When I became engaged to you I was very young and am still so; +consequently, you will hardly be surprised when you learn that I have +changed my mind and wish to have our engagement dissolved. + + "Yours truly, as a friend, + + "JULIA MIDDLETON." + + + +Ike did not go to Frankfort again for two or three days, but when he did, +he was the bearer of this heartless note. Mr. Wilmot was indeed better and +when he heard Ike was in the house he expressed a desire to see him, as he +wished to send some word to Julia. When Ike was ushered into the sick +room, he immediately handed his young mistress’ letter to Mr. Wilmot, who +eagerly took it, for he recognized the handwriting of his idol. Hastily +breaking the seal, he read twice the cruel lines before he was convinced +that he read aright; then the paleness on his cheek grew paler, and was +succeeded by a deep flush. + +When Ike asked what he should tell the folks at home, Mr. Wilmot’s voice +was husky as he answered, "Nothing, Ike, tell them nothing." Ike was +alarmed at the change which had come over his young master, and called for +assistance. + +From that time Mr. Wilmot hourly grew worse. Mrs. Middleton was sent for, +and a telegram was forwarded to his friends in New York, bidding them come +soon if they would see him alive. Mr. Miller, who was teaching in a +distant part of the country, dismissed his school to attend his dying +friend. It was heartrending to hear Mr. Wilmot in his delirium, call for +Julia to come to him—to let him look on her face once more before he died. +Then he would fancy himself at home and would describe Julia to his sister +in all the passionate fervor of a devoted lover; then he would think it +was Julia who was sick, and would beg of those around him to save her, and +not let his loved one die. At last Mrs. Middleton could bear his pleadings +no longer. She resolved to go home and persuade her hard-hearted daughter, +if possible, to go to the dying man. + +Just before she was ready to leave, consciousness returned to him for a +few moments, and calling her to his bedside, he asked her where she was +going. On being told he replied, "Mrs. Middleton, I am dying. When you +return I shall not be in this world; but I know that my Redeemer liveth, +and I am not afraid to die, for I feel assured of rest beyond the grave; +but there is one thing I would have. Ere I go hence I would see Julia once +more. I have loved her perhaps too well, and for this I must die. Tell, oh +tell her, how I missed her when the fever scorched my brow, and bid her +hasten to me ere it be too late! But if she will not come, give her my +blessing, and tell her my last prayer was for her, and that in Heaven she +will be mine." + +With many tears Mrs. Middleton promised him that every word of his message +should be delivered to Julia, and that she should come to him. On reaching +home her swollen eyelids attracted Fanny’s attention, and excited her +fear. Springing up, she exclaimed, "Mother, mother, how is Mr. Wilmot? Is +he dead?" + +"No," answered her mother, "he is not dead, but is dying." + +Then she repeated to Julia his request, and added, "You had better go +immediately, if you wish to see him alive, for he cannot live until +morning. Fanny will call Ike to go with you." + +Fanny arose to do her mother’s bidding, but Julia stopped her by saying, +"You needn’t trouble yourself to call him, Fanny." + +"Why not?" said Fanny, looking wonderingly in Julia’s face. + +"Because I am not going," said Julia coolly. + +"Not going!" exclaimed Fanny. + +"Not going!" echoed Mrs. Middleton. "Why do you say so? You are going, you +must go!" + +"There is no must about it," answered Julia; "I do not choose to go, and I +shall not go!" + +"Are you in earnest, Julia?" asked Mrs. Middleton. + +"As much in earnest as I ever was in my life," replied Julia. + +"Well, then," returned the mother in a decided tone, "you shall go; I +command you to go, and I must be obeyed!" + +"I’d like to see your commands enforced, Madam," said Julia, her beautiful +face dark with rage. "Yes, I’d like to see anybody make me go if I did not +wish to. Mr. Wilmot is nothing to me, and I would hardly go to save his +life." + +"Oh, Julia, Julia!" said Mrs. Middleton bitterly, "has it come to this? I +can see it all now!" + +"What all can you see so distinctly?" asked Julia scornfully. + +"I can understand what part you have had in causing Mr. Wilmot’s death," +answered Mrs. Middleton. + +Julia turned ashy pale, and her mother continued—"Often in his ravings he +spoke of a letter, a cruel letter he called it, and I heard it hinted that +it was the receipt of that letter which brought on a relapse. Now you will +tell me whether you wrote that letter, and if so, what were its contents?" + +"I wonder how I’m expected to know what letter you mean," said Julia. +"However, I did write to him and ask to be released from my engagement, +and I had my reasons for so doing." + +Mrs. Middleton sighed and said, "It is as I feared; on you, Julia, rests +in a measure the cause of his death." + +"Better call me a murderer at once. But I’ll not stay for more abuse," +said Julia, as she left the room. + +When she was gone Mrs. Middleton buried her face in her hands, and sent +forth sob after sob from her crushed heart—crushed by the sinfulness and +mocking disobedience of her first born. While she was still weeping, Fanny +stole softly from the apartment and went in quest of her sister. She found +her, as she had expected, in her room, and going up to her threw her arms +around her neck, and plead long and earnestly that she would go to Mr. +Wilmot. But Julia’s answer was ever the same, "No, I will not." + +"And why will you not?" asked Fanny. + +"Because," replied Julia, "Mr. Wilmot is nothing to me, and there is no +reason why I should go to him, more than to any other lovesick youth who +takes a fancy to send for me. You would not feel obliged to run if Bill +Jeffrey should have the measles and send for you." + +"Oh, stop, stop," said Fanny, "you shall not liken Bill Jeffrey to Mr. +Wilmot, who is so good, so noble. You loved him once, and for the sake of +that love go to him now; it can do you no harm." + +"It would seriously affect my plans for the future; and once for all, I +tell you I will not go," replied Julia. + +"Then I will," said Fanny, "and show him that I, at least, have not +forgotten him." + +This idea pleased Julia, and she answered, "I wish you would, for your +presence will do as much good as mine." + +Fanny hastily ran down stairs and, going to her mother, said, "Mother, +Julia will not go, but I will. I should like to very much. Will you let +me?" + +Mrs. Middleton was too much engrossed in her painful thoughts to give much +heed to what Fanny said. She only knew that she wished her to consent to +something, and she mechanically answered, "Yes, yes, go." It was then +after sunset, and as the sky had all day been cloudy, darkness was fast +gathering over the earth, but Fanny heeded it not. She bade Ike make +haste, and in a few moments her favorite pony was saddled. Ike’s horse was +then got in readiness, and they were soon galloping off in the direction +of Frankfort. ’Twas a long ride of twelve miles and the darkness increased +every moment, while a steady, drizzling rain commenced falling. Still +Fanny kept perseveringly on, occasionally speaking an encouraging word to +Ike, who pulled his old cap closely over his ears and muttered, "Lord +bless young miss. Seems like ’twas her was done promised to young marster, +a puttin’ out this desput night to see him." + +But Fanny kept her thoughts to herself, and while she is making her way to +Frankfort, we will precede her and see what is taking place in the sick +room. The large drops of sweat which stood upon Mr. Wilmot’s high, white +forehead, showed that the hour of dissolution was at hand. His mind was +wandering, but still the burden of his soul was, "Julia, Julia, oh, will +she not come?" Mr. Miller stood by him and endeavored as far as possible +to quiet him, and once, during a lucid interval, he asked, "If Julia does +not come, what shall I tell her when I see her?" + +Mr. Wilmot’s eyes opened wide and for a moment he looked wistfully at his +friend, and then said mournfully, "I cannot see you, Joseph, my vision has +departed forever, and if Julia comes, I cannot now look on her loved +features, but if I die ere she arrives, ask her if she wrote that letter." + +Just then there was a noise without, and the sound of horses’ feet was +heard coming up the graveled walk. Some one in the room whispered, "It +must be Miss Middleton." The sound caught the dying man’s ear and he +wildly exclaimed, "Has she come? Oh! Has she come?" Fanny was now heard +speaking in the hall. We have said that her voice was strangely like her +sister’s, so it was no wonder that Mr. Wilmot, in his feverish delirium, +mistook it. Clasping his hands together, he exclaimed, "Thank God she has +come! She has come!" + +The excitement was too much for him and for a few moments he was +unconscious. When at last animation was restored, Fanny was hanging over +his pillow, and Fanny’s tears were upon his cheek; but he thought it was +Julia, and drawing her to him, he imprinted a burning kiss upon her fair +brow, saying, "God bless you for coming, precious Julia, I knew you would +come; and now tell me, do you not love me as well as you always have?" + +Fanny was bewildered, and looked imploringly at Mr. Miller, who said, +"Richard, do you think it is Julia who is standing by you now?" The sick +man gave a startled look and almost shrieked out, "Julia? Yes, is it not +Julia? Speak quick and tell me, isn’t Julia here?" Mr. Miller’s eyes +filled with tears as he answered sadly, "No, Richard, Julia is not here; +it is Fanny who has come." A deathly paleness passed over Mr. Wilmot’s +face and a paroxysm of delirium ensued more violent than any which had +preceded it. At last it partially passed off and he became comparatively +calm, but still persisted in thinking it was Julia whose hand he held in +his and whose breath was upon his cheek. "Heaven bless you for coming, +beloved one," he would say, "I knew you would come, and still the dreadful +thought has haunted me, that you might be false, for that was a cruel +letter; but you did not write it, did you?" + +Fanny answered through her tears, "No, Mr. Wilmot, I did not write it. It +is Fanny who is speaking to you." But Mr. Wilmot understood only the first +part of what she said, and continued, "I knew you did not, I am satisfied +now to die; and yet ’tis hard to die when I am so young and so far from +home, but it is sweet to know that I have your love to the last. When I am +dead, you will tell them at home how I loved and prayed for them. My +mother will weep bitterly for her son, who died so far away, but she does +not love me as well as you do, does she, dearest?" + +Just then Dr. Lacey entered the room. He seemed surprised to see Fanny +there, and to hear the words of endearment addressed to her by Mr. Wilmot, +but Mr. Miller softly told him of the mistake. This seemed to satisfy him, +but he anxiously noted every change of Fanny’s countenance. At last Mr. +Wilmot said, "If you did not write that letter, who did? Was it, could it +have been your sister?" + +"Oh, no! No!" said Fanny, "I did not write it." + +"I know you did not, dearest," said he; "you would not do such a thing, +but who did? I cannot think it was Fanny, who was always so gentle, so +guileless." + +Poor Fanny! She felt that her beloved teacher was dying with a suspicion +of her innocence, and she wept most bitterly. At last a change passed over +Mr. Wilmot’s face, a change which showed that the last trying moment had +come. It frequently occurs with dying persons that at the last their +faculties are for a moment fully restored. So it was with Mr. Wilmot. A +bright smile broke over his face and looking up at Mr. Miller, he said, "I +thank my Heavenly Father I can see again. Now, where is Julia? I would +look on her face once more." + +"I told you," said Mr. Miller, "that you were mistaken; it is not Julia." + +"Not Julia!" said Mr. Wilmot, again becoming delirious. "Not Julia! It +cannot be true." Then drawing Fanny toward him he looked earnestly in her +face. Slowly the bitter truth broke over his mind, and he said, "Yes, I +was mistaken! But I bless you for coming; but Julia, my too dearly loved +Julia—she is not here. Oh, if I can never see her in this world, shall I +see her in heaven?" + +They were the last words he ever uttered. Falling back on his pillow, he +drew Fanny’s face to his, and with his last breath kissed her quivering +lips, and all was over. Sadly Mr. Miller closed the eyes of his departed +friend, and smoothing the covering about him, left him to the care of the +servants. A few hours later, Fanny entered the room with Dr. Lacey, again +to look on the face of Mr. Wilmot. The sun was just rising, and its first +red rays fell upon the marble features of the dead. There was on his face +an expression so calm and heavenly that Fanny held her breath while +looking at him, lest she should disturb his peaceful repose. At length she +kissed his cold forehead, and silently left the room which contained the +pale sleeper. + +In the course of a few hours she returned home, bearing the sad tidings, +which was received by her mother with a burst of tears; but Julia +preserved the same indifference which had been manifested throughout all +Mr. Wilmot’s illness. Hard-hearted as she was, there came a time in after +years when that proud head was bowed with grief, and those dark eyes were +bedimmed by tears of penitence, which could not atone for the past; for +they were of no avail to bring back the dead from their silent resting +place. + + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + + SUNSHINE HAS TWO GRAVES UPON WHICH TO PLANT FLOWERS + + +Mr. Wilmot’s death occurred on Tuesday morning, and the following Thursday +was appointed for his burial. It was the 1st of September, and a bright, +beautiful day; but its sunlight fell on many aching hearts, for though he +who lay in his low coffin, so cold and still, was a "stranger in a strange +land," there were many whose tears fell like summer rain for one who had +thus early passed away. He had during his lifetime been a member of the +Episcopal church, and his funeral services were to take place at Ascension +Church. + +The house was filled to overflowing. Mr. Middleton, Mr. Miller, Dr. Lacey +and Fanny occupied the front seat, as principal mourners for the deceased. +Many searching eyes were bent on the fair young girl, whose white forehead +gleamed from under the folds of her veil, and whose eyelids, wet with +tears, drooped heavily upon her pale cheek. Madam Rumor had been busy with +her thousand tongues, and the scene at the deathbed had been told and +retold in twenty different forms, until at last it had become settled that +on Fanny’s part there was some secret attachment, or she never would have +evinced so much interest in Mr. Wilmot. She, however, was ignorant of all +this, and sat there wholly unconscious of the interest she was exciting. + +Julia was not there. She had again defied her mother’s commands, and +resisted all Fanny’s entreaties, that she would go to the funeral. + +"You ought to see Mr. Wilmot," said Fanny. "He looks so calm, so peaceful +and," she added in a low voice, "so forgiving." + +"So forgiving!" quickly repeated Julia. "I wonder what he has to forgive. +If I had continued to love him, ’twould not have saved his life." + +Fanny sighed and turned away from the hard-hearted girl, who was left +alone with her thoughts during all the long hours of that day. But to do +her justice, we must say, that after her mother and sister were gone, a +feeling of sadness stole over her; her stony heart somewhat softened, and +in the solitude of her chamber she wept for a long time; but whether for +Mr. Wilmot’s death, her own conduct toward him, or the circumstances which +surrounded her, none can tell. + +Let us now return to Frankfort, and go back for a few moments in our +story. Just as the funeral procession had left the house and was +proceeding toward the church, the steamboat Diana, which plies between +Cincinnati and Frankfort, appeared round a bend in the river. She was +loaded with passengers, who were all on the lookout as they neared the +landing place. Just at that moment the tolling bell rang out on the air. +Its tones fell sadly on the ear of a tall, beautiful girl, who was +impatiently pacing the deck, and looking anxiously in the direction of the +city. The knell was repeated, and she murmured, "Oh, what if that should +be for Richard!" The thought overpowered her, and sitting down on a seat +near her she burst into tears. + +"Can I do anything for you?" said the captain, who at that moment passed +her. + +"Nothing, except to land me in Frankfort as soon as possible," said the +young lady, whom the reader will readily suppose was Kate Wilmot. + +"Are you in a great hurry?" asked the captain. + +"Yes, sir," returned Kate. "My brother is dangerously sick and I am +anxious to get to him." + +"Where does your brother live?" asked the captain. + +"He boards with Mrs. Williams, on Elm street," answered Kate. + +"Then," said the captain, "if you will show me your baggage, I will see +that it is sent there, for you probably will not wish to waste time in +looking after it when we land." + +Kate thanked him for his kindness; and when they reached the shore the +kind-hearted man called one of his boatmen and ordered him to show Miss +Wilmot the way to Mrs. Williams’ residence. As Kate approached the house +she noticed the air of desertion about it, and her heart sank for fear her +brother might be dead. Running hastily up the steps, she rang the bell, +which was answered by a female domestic, who was too old and too infirm to +attend the funeral. Kate accosted her by saying, "Does Mr. Wilmot live +here?" + +The old lady replied by lifting up her hand and exclaiming, while the +tears coursed their way down her cheeks, "Lord bless me if it isn’t young +marster’s sister." + +"Yes, yes," said Kate impatiently, "I am his sister. But tell me, is he +dead? Am I too late?" + +The woman replied, "Not too late to see him, if you’re right spry. They’ve +carried him to the church." + +"Where? What church is it?" asked Kate wildly. + +"Right yender; that ar brick house with the tall steeple." + +Kate waited for no more, but darted off in the direction of the church. +Meanwhile the services were ended, and the friends of the deceased were +taking their last leave of him. Mrs. Middleton and Mr. Miller stood on one +side of the coffin, while Dr. Lacey and Fanny were on the other. Fanny +gazed long and earnestly upon the face of her teacher, as if she would +stamp his likeness with daguerrean accuracy upon her heart. + +She was turning sadly away, when a noise at the door caused all eyes to be +directed that way. A pale, lovely face was seen looking anxiously in, and +then a slight female figure advanced through the crowd, which gave way for +her to pass. She passed up the aisle till she reached the coffin, then +bursting into a flood of tears, she wrung her hands, exclaiming, "My +brother, oh my brother—are you indeed dead?" She then imprinted kiss after +kiss upon the cold lips of him who never before disregarded her caresses; +and as the full force of her loss came over her, she uttered a piercing +cry of anguish, and fell fainting into the arms of Mr. Miller, who +recognized in her beautiful features the original of the picture which Mr. +Wilmot had shown him a few months before. + +He bore her out into the open air, where he was instantly surrounded by +half a dozen ladies, each insisting that the fair stranger should be taken +to her house. First among these was Mrs. Crane, who saw by a glance at +Kate that her presence would not be derogatory to any house, so she +determined to have her taken to her own dwelling, and urged her claim so +hard that Mr. Miller at last consented, thinking that Mrs. Williams must +be wearied with the recent illness of Mr. Wilmot. + +Accordingly, when Kate was again restored to consciousness, she found +herself in an elegantly furnished room, with a gaily dressed, handsome +lady sitting by her. This was Mrs. Carrington, whose delicate nerves would +not suffer her to attend a funeral. On seeing Kate move, she spoke to her +and asked her if she felt better. + +"Yes, much better," said Kate; "but where am I? What has happened?" And +then as the recollection of what had occurred came over her, she burst +into tears and said, "My brother—they have buried him, I suppose, and I +cannot see him again." + +Mrs. Carrington answered, "I think they have not gone to the cemetery yet. +I will dispatch a servant and ask them to delay the burial a few moments, +if you desire it." + +Kate thanked her; but at that moment a messenger came from Mr. Miller. He +had anticipated Kate’s wishes, and sent word that a carriage was waiting +to convey her to the church, where she would have another opportunity of +seeing her brother. Mrs. Carrington felt constrained to offer to accompany +her, and the two proceeded to the church and thence to the cemetery. + +Although Mrs. Carrington had not visited Mr. Wilmot during his illness, +she was by no means ignorant of Fanny’s attentions. She had taken great +pains to comment upon them in Dr. Lacey’s presence, saying, "that she had +often suspected Fanny of possessing a more than ordinary affection for Mr. +Wilmot, and she had sometimes thought her affection returned. For her +part, she did not blame Julia for absenting herself from him, for she had +probably discovered his preference for her sister." Her object in doing +this was to make Dr. Lacey think less favorably of Fanny, for with her +practised eye she had discovered that for no other female did he feel such +an interest as for "Little Fanny Middleton," as she always termed her. + +At the grave she noticed Fanny’s pale face and swollen eyes, and found +occasion to say to her, loud enough for Dr. Lacey to hear, "I am +astonished, Fanny, to see you show to the world how much you loved your +sister’s betrothed." + +This remark had no effect upon Fanny, except causing her to look at Mrs. +Carrington in surprise and to wonder what she meant. With Dr. Lacey it was +different. Imperceptibly, "Little Fanny Middleton" had won a place in his +heart which no other one had ever possessed. At first he admired her for +her frank, confiding nature, and afterward he learned to love her for the +many lovely traits of her character. He had thought it perfectly natural +that she should feel a great interest in Mr. Wilmot, who was for so long a +time a member of her father’s family; but the wrong construction which was +put upon her motives annoyed him, and even made him fearful that her heart +might be more interested in Mr. Wilmot than he was willing to believe. As +he stood by the open grave into which the cold earth was heavily falling, +there rested upon his brow a deeper shade of sadness than was occasioned +by the mere death of his friend. Mrs. Carrington observed it, and resolved +to follow up the train of thought which she saw was awakened in his mind. + +After the burial Kate returned to Mrs. Crane’s, where she was treated with +every possible attention which politeness or sympathy could dictate. A few +days after the funeral she one evening casually asked, if that fair, +delicate-looking girl at her brother’s grave were not Miss Middleton? + +"Yes," replied Mrs. Carrington. "Did you not think from her manner that +she was a sincere mourner?" + +Kate was about to reply, when Dr. Lacey prevented her by saying, "Pardon +me, Mrs. Carrington; but I think you have given Miss Wilmot a wrong +impression. She doubtless thinks it was Miss Julia Middleton." + +"Yes," said Kate, "I thought it was Miss Julia." + +Dr. Lacey replied that it was Fanny—Julia’s younger sister; and then he +told how faithfully she had watched over Mr. Wilmot during his illness. Of +Julia he said nothing, and although Kate wished very much to know +something concerning her, she determined not to question Dr. Lacey, but to +wait and ask Mr. Miller, who, for some reason, seemed nearer to her than +any other one of the strangers by whom she was surrounded. He had been +solicited to take charge of the school, which was now destitute of a +teacher, and as the situation pleased him, he readily accepted the offer +and accepted Mrs. Crane’s as his boarding place. Perhaps one inducement +which led him to do this was the presence of the beautiful Kate, in whom +he daily became more interested. + +Years before, when but a boy in the boarding school at Canandaigua, he had +often fancied that the time would come when he should both see and know +the sister whom Richard Wilmot used to describe in such glowing terms. +Since then another image had filled his heart and he had dreamed of +another face—not so fair, perhaps, but quite as innocent. But now the +dream was sadly over, and he had never thought of the gentle Fanny for a +wife since that night when, as he supposed, he saw the dark side of her +character. He, however, could not conquer his old partiality, and always +spoke of her in the highest terms. Consequently, from his description of +her, Kate received a very favorable impression. + +He said little of Julia; but told Kate that he would take her to Mr. +Middleton’s the first fine day. He wished to go there in order to induce +Mrs. Middleton to send her daughters back to school. The next Saturday was +fixed upon for the visit, and at an early hour Mr. Miller and Kate were on +their way to Mr. Middleton’s. + +Kate Wilmot was not only handsome, but was also very intelligent and +agreeable, and by the time their ride was half-completed, Mr. Miller was +more than half in love and was building air castles just as he had done +months before when Fanny was mistress of them all. + +About noon they reached Mr. Middleton’s, where they were received very +kindly by Mrs. Middleton, very joyfully by Fanny, and very coldly by +Julia, whose face always wore a darker frown whenever Mr. Miller was +present; but he apparently did not notice it, and went on conversing upon +different subjects. At last he asked when Mr. Middleton was expected home. + +"I am expecting him every day," said Mrs. Middleton, "and," she added in a +lower tone, "I almost dread to have him come, for I do not know that he +has ever heard a word of Richard’s illness and death." + +"Why, have you never written to him?" asked Mr. Miller. + +"Yes," replied she; "but it is so uncertain as to what place he is in, or +how long he will remain there, that it is doubtful whether he ever +received the letter. We heard from him a few days ago. He was then in +Indiana, and as he said nothing about Mr. Wilmot, I presume he has not +heard of his death." + +Just as she had finished speaking, the dogs set up a great barking, and +the negroes uttered the joyful cry of "Marster’s come! Marster’s come!" +The family ran to the door to meet him; but Fanny could not wait for him +to enter the house, neither could she stop to unfasten the gate, but +clearing it with one bound, she was soon in the arms of her father, who +uttered his usual, "Ha, ha," and said, "Well done, darling; you’ll do for +a cirkis rider. Are you glad to see your old pap?" + +The blacks then gathered round, and he shook hands with all, saying, "How +d’ye, boys? How d’ye? Have you worked right smart since I’ve been gone? If +you have, you may have a play spell the rest of the arternoon." + +So saying, he entered the house, where after greeting his wife, Julia and +Mr. Miller, he was introduced to "Miss Wilmot." He took her hand and +looking at her for a moment, said, "Wilmot, Wilmot! Are you Dick’s +sister?" + +Kate’s eyes filled with tears as she exclaimed, "Yes, sir, Richard was my +brother." + +"Richard was your brother! Great Moses! What does this mean? And you in +black and crying!" Then looking at his wife, who was also in tears, he +added impatiently, "What in thun—" but instantly recollecting himself, he +said more gently, "Can’t anybody tell me what has happened?" And the old +man’s cheek paled, and his voice trembled, as the dread of what might have +happened stole over him. + +Fanny at last went up to him and said softly, "Father, Mr. Wilmot is +dead!" + +Mr. Middleton sank into the nearest chair, and covering his rough face +with his hands, wept as freely as a little child. He had loved Mr. Wilmot +with almost a father’s love, and during his absence had not been unmindful +of him. Safely stowed away in his carpet bag were several costly books, +which he had purchased as a present for Richard. He had also hoped that as +Julia’s husband he would have a good influence over her, and improve her +fractious disposition; and many were the plans which he had formed as to +what he would do when Richard was really his son. But now he was gone +forever. The blow was so sudden, so unexpected, that for several minutes +he was stunned by its force and wept on in silence. + +At last, lifting up his head, he turned to Kate and said, "You must not +think me a silly old fool, child, for Lord knows old Josh Middleton hain’t +shed such tears since he was a little shaver and cried when they buried up +his dead mother." + +Kate could not reply, but from that time she felt for Mr. Middleton a +respect and esteem which nothing could ever change. + +After Mr. Middleton had become calm, he proceeded to enumerate to Mr. +Miller the many good qualities of Mr. Wilmot. Said he, "He was a capital +feller; allus just so. Lively as a cricket; none of your stuck-up, +fiddle-faddle notions. And then he was such a good boarder—not a bit +particular what he eat; why, he was the greatest kind of a man—eat corn +bread, turnip greens, or anything!" + +At this speech Kate smiled in spite of her tears, and Mr. Middleton went +on: "But he warn’t as handsome as his sister, and I’ll be skinned if I +ever seen anybody that was. Tempest can’t hold a candle to her, for all +she feels so crank. Why, Kit, or Kate, what’s yer name? You’re as handsome +as a pictur!" + +Mr. Miller probably thought so too, if the admiring look which he gave her +was any criterion. Mr. Middleton observed it, and forgetting for a moment +the death of his friend, he slapped Mr. Miller on his shoulder, saying, "I +tell you what, my boy; it’s a mighty mean wind that blows nobody any good +fortin. Miss Kate warn’t sent to Kentuck for nothin’, and unless you’re a +bigger logger-head than I think you be, you’ll try to find out what she +come for, and how long she’s goin’ to stay." + +Mr. Miller smiled and said, "I hope we shall be able to keep Miss Wilmot +all winter, for the people of Frankfort are wanting a music teacher, and +have solicited her to remain in that capacity." + +"By Jove," said Mr. Middleton, "that’s just the thing! And you have taken +Dick’s place in school—poor, boy, to die so soon!" The tears were again +moistening his immense beard, but this time he hastily brushed them away, +and went on, "Yes, that’s a capital idee, and you want me to patternize +you by sending my two gals—hey? Well, I reckon I can’t do better, if they +want to go. Ho! Tempest—Sunshine—what d’ye say? D’ye want to go back to +Frankfort and board at Miss Crane’s, ’long of Mr. Miller, Dr. Lacey, Katy +did, and that other infernal Katy didn’t, what fainted spang away at the +sight of old Josh! But though she was so dreadfully skeered, the pooty +color didn’t leave her cheeks an atom. Lightnin’ spikes! Let me catch my +gals paintin’ and I’ll—" + +But he was prevented from telling what he’d do by Fanny, who clapped her +hands and said, "Oh, father, you are a dear good man; may we really go?" + +"I thought Fanny would be pleased with the idea," said Mr. Miller, "and +even if she had objected, I was going to send the doctor out, and I know +he would bring her to terms." + +Fanny blushed and her father said, "Do you think so? Well, I’m glad on’t. +I’d as soon she’d have him as anybody, and she’s worthy of him too, for if +she can love such a hideous old clown as I am, she’ll stick to such a nice +man as Dr. Lacey through thick and thin. But what do you say to goin’, +Tempest?" + +Julia had at first thought that nothing could induce her to become a pupil +of Mr. Miller, but his allusion to Dr. Lacey decided her otherwise. It was +necessary that she should go, for she did not dare trust her sister alone +with the doctor; so she swallowed her dislike to Mr. Miller, and said she +should be delighted to return to school. + +It was settled that they should go during the next week. + +This arrangement gave great pleasure to Dr. Lacey, who found it very +lonely in Frankfort without Fanny, and had several times spoken of +returning to New Orleans. But when he learned that Fanny was coming back, +he suddenly changed his mind and concluded that Frankfort would be a +charming winter residence. This was laughingly told to Fanny by Kate, who +had learned to love her very much. Julia she disliked, for she had at last +drawn from Mr. Miller the whole history of her proceedings, and she could +but look upon the false-hearted girl as accessory to her brother’s death. + +Julia knew that by the fair Northern beauty she was secretly despised, but +she did not care, for she had conceived a great friendship for Mrs. +Carrington, whom she often amused with her remarks about New York people. +Once she said, "I do wish New York would die, or stop taking emetics, and +sending the contents of her bilious stomach to Kentucky in the shape of +teachers!" + +Mrs. Carrington smiled and said, "I think you prefer Louisiana emetics, do +you not?" + +Julia blushed as she answered, "Yes, but what can I do. There’s Mr. Miller +ready to back up whatever Fanny does, and put down whatever I do. I’d +thank him to mind his own business, and stay at his own home!" + +Mrs. Carrington did not reply, for she, too, was greatly annoyed by the +presence of Mr. Miller and Kate. The latter she looked upon as a rival, +for she was said by every one to have the most beautiful face in +Frankfort. This greatly displeased Mrs. Carrington, who, before Kate’s +arrival, had been considered the belle of the town, so far as beauty was +concerned. She also felt great contempt for Kate’s occupation as a +teacher, and said, "She didn’t see why folks should make such an ado over +a poor music teacher." + +Once, in speaking on the subject to Dr. Lacey, she said, "I am glad I was +not born in New York, for then I should have been obliged to pick up +chips, split wood, dig potatoes, wash dishes and teach school!" + +Dr. Lacey’s reply to this remark was, "I think, Mrs. Carrington, you will +admit that the young ladies who come here from the North almost always +possess superior education. Now if they spent much time in splitting wood +and digging potatoes, I am sure they could not acquire so much knowledge." + +Mrs. Carrington answered, "Of course you feel interested in New Yorkers, +for Fanny has taken a great fancy to them, and whatever she likes you must +like, of course." + +"Yes, I know Fanny likes our New York friends very much," said Dr. Lacey. +"And I think you will allow that she shows good taste in the choice of her +associates." + +"Oh, yes, admirable," returned Mrs. Carrington, "almost as good taste as +some of my acquaintance show in preferring her." + +"What do you mean?" asked Dr. Lacey. + +"Why, I mean," said Mrs. Carrington, "that I am puzzled to know what +attraction such a simple-minded girl as Fanny can have for a person of +your intelligence." + +Dr. Lacey bit his lip, but forcing down his anger said, "She possesses the +same attraction which every guileless, innocent person has." + +"Guileless and innocent," repeated Mrs. Carrington; "rather call her +artful and designing. Depend upon it, doctor, you have only seen the +bright side of her disposition. You should see her in her room, and know +how much trouble her sister has with her!" + +She might have said more, but Dr. Lacey stopped her by saying rather +warmly, "Mrs. Carrington, you shall not talk so about Fanny. I know you do +not like her, and consequently, whatever you can say of her will have no +effect upon me." + +So saying, he quitted the apartment, leaving Mrs. Carrington to her own +reflections. They were not very pleasant, for Dr. Lacey’s manner had said +as plainly as words could say that she had better mind her own business, +and she began to think so herself, for she muttered, "After all, what is +it to me if he does like Fanny? I am bound fast, but oh, if I were free, +I’d compass heaven and earth to secure him." Her wish to be free was soon +realized. + +That afternoon, when the Sea Gull came up from Louisville, it brought home +her husband, wearied, worn out and sick. He took his bed, and never left +his room again until strong men carried him out and laid him down to sleep +in the silent graveyard. The close of his life was calm and peaceful, for +he had early chosen the better part, and he looked upon the grave as but a +stepping stone from earth to heaven. + +His life was a dreary pilgrimage, for though he possessed for his young, +giddy wife, a strong, ardent affection, he had long known that it was not +returned, and he felt that she would be happier if he were dead. She, +however, paid him as much attention during his illness as the gay life she +led would allow; but she was often away, and night after night was he left +alone with his Bible and his God, while she was in the midst of some +fashionable amusement. Her neglect was, however, partly made up to him by +the kind care of Fanny, who gave him all the time she could possibly spare +from her school duties. Mrs. Carrington found it very convenient to call +upon her, whenever she wished to be absent, and hour after hour the fair +young girl sat by the sick man’s bedside, employed either with her needle, +her books or drawing. Mr. Carrington was a fine scholar and gave her much +assistance in her studies. + +When he grew too weak to read, she would read to him from the Bible, +stopping occasionally, while he explained some obscure passage, or +endeavored to impress on her mind some solemn truth. Thus were the seeds +of righteousness sown, which afterward sprang up and bore fruit unto +everlasting life. + +At last the chilling dews came upon his head, his eye grew dim with the +mists of death, and then he laid his cold, white hand on Fanny’s head and +prayed most earnestly that heaven’s choicest blessings, both here and +hereafter, might descend upon one who had so kindly smoothed his dark +pathway down to the valley of death. A few words of affectionate farewell +to his wife and he was gone. His crushed, aching heart had ceased to beat +and in a few days the green sod was growing above his early grave. + +Fanny begged so earnestly to have him buried by the side of Mr. Wilmot +that Mrs. Carrington finally consented, and the two, who had never seen +each other on earth, now lay peacefully side by side. When the springtime +came, the same fair hands planted flowers over the graves of her brothers, +as she loved to call the two men, each of whom had blessed her with his +dying breath. Thither would she often go with Dr. Lacey, who was each day +learning to love her more and more. + +Mrs. Carrington contented herself with having a few hysterical fits, +shedding a few tears, dressing herself in an expensive suit of mourning, +and erecting to the memory of her husband a magnificent monument. When Mr. +Middleton saw the latter, he said, "Why the plague can’t Dick have as good +a gravestun as that young lieutenant? He desarves it jest as much"; so out +came his purse, and when Mrs. Carrington went next to visit the costly +marble at her husband’s grave, she was chagrined to see by its side a +still more splendid one. But there was no help for it, so she had to +endure it in silence, consoling herself with thinking how becomingly she +would dress and how many conquests she would make, when the term of her +mourning should have expired! + + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + + JULIA’S PLOT TO BREAK FANNY’S ENGAGEMENT + + +Our readers will not be sorry, if after a chapter of sadness and death, we +turn to a more joyous one, and tell them of the bridal of Kate Wilmot and +Mr. Miller. Kate wished to defer it a few months, on account of the recent +death of her brother, but her lover urged his claim so strongly that she +at last yielded, and their marriage took place on Christmas eve. Mr. W——, +one of the wealthiest men in Frankfort, very kindly offered to give Kate a +splendid wedding party, but she politely declined his generous offer, as +she did not feel like entering into such a scene of gayety as would +necessarily attend a large party. + +A few of her most intimate friends assembled in Mrs. Crane’s parlor, and +thence proceeded to the church, which was crowded with anxious spectators, +many of whom almost envied Mr. Miller his beautiful bride, while others +envied her the fine-looking man who stood there as the bridegroom, and all +were unanimous in pronouncing it an excellent match. Kate’s happiness on +this occasion was not unmingled with sadness, for her thoughts went back +to the time when, with a heart bursting with anguish, she had first +entered that church and passed up its broad aisle until she reached the +side of her darling brother, who lay shrouded in his coffin. + +Now the scene was changed; she was there as the happy bride of one to whom +she had given the undivided affection of her heart, and as the solemn +words were uttered which made her his forever, she felt that her brother’s +spirit hovered near, to bless her union with one who had ever been his +true friend. So she requested that Fanny should be her bridesmaid, and the +young girl now stood at the altar, with her bright face beaming with +happiness, for Dr. Lacey, who was by her side, had, the night before, told +her all his love, and had won from her a promise that at some future time +she would be his. He told her that he would speak to her father the next +evening. + +Accordingly, after the wedding party had returned to Mrs. Crane’s, he +invited Mr. Middleton to go with him for a few minutes to his room. Fanny +was sure of her father’s consent, but she could not help feeling nervous +when she saw him leave the parlor, accompanied by Dr. Lacey. A few moments +after, she observed that Julia also was missing, and she trembled lest she +might have suspected something and gone to listen. + +Nor was she mistaken in her fears; for Mrs. Carrington and Julia both had +an inkling of what was going on, and when the latter heard Dr. Lacey say +something to her father in a low tone, and then saw them leave the room +together, she arose and stealthily followed them upstairs. Going out on +the balcony, she stole softly up to Dr. Lacey’s window, and there, +unobserved, listened to a conversation which confirmed her worst fears. In +a firm, decided tone, Dr. Lacey told Mr. Middleton of his love for his +daughter, and said she had promised to be his if her father would consent. + +Mr. Middleton replied, "And so it’s my darter you want. Of course it’s +Sunshine?" + +"Certainly, sir," answered Dr. Lacey. + +"Well, I’m glad on’t. I’ve seen it all along; but I didn’t know but mebby +Tempest had come it over you with her pretty face—but devil of a life +you’d lead with her." + +Dr. Lacey did not reply, but Julia did; and though the tones of her voice +were too low to be heard, they were none the less emphatic, as she said, +"And devil of a life I’ll make you lead if you do not have me." And at the +same time she ground her glittering teeth and shook her clenched fist at +the two men, who were unconscious of the rage they were exciting. + +Mr. Middleton continued, "Yes, I’ll give you Sunshine, I reckon, and a +hundred thousand dollars beside." + +"It’s Fanny I want, not her money," said Dr. Lacey. + +"Oh, yes, I know," answered Mr. Middleton; "but I reckon you won’t object +to a few thousand, unless you are as rich as a Jew." + +Dr. Lacey replied: "I am not as rich as a Jew, but I am the only child of +my father, who is said to be worth half a million." + +"Half a million!" repeated Mr. Middleton in astonishment. "Golly-ludy, +man, what made you ever think of a poor girl like Sunshine?" + +"Because I love her," answered Dr. Lacey, "and I would marry her just as +soon if she were not worth one dime." + +"Maybe you would and maybe you wouldn’t," muttered Julia; "and perhaps +you’ll have her, and perhaps you won’t. You’ve got me to deal with, and +I’d like to see the person who can cross my path with impunity." So +saying, she glided from her hiding place and went down stairs to the +parlor, leaving her father and Dr. Lacey to finish their conversation. + +Dr. Lacey proposed that Fanny should continue at school two years longer, +and at the end of that time he would claim her as his wife. + +"Why, yes," said Mr. Middleton; "I s’pose I understand; you want her to be +more accomplished like, afore you take her down to New Orleans. Well, it’s +perfectly nateral, and old Josh’ll spar no pains nor money." + +And so the conference ended. When Dr. Lacey re-entered the parlor Fanny +read success in his face. In a short time he managed to get near her, and +bending down, whispered to her, "My own dear Fanny, forever." At these +words a beautiful flush suffused Fanny’s usually pale cheek. It was +noticed by Julia, who was watching the doctor and her sister with a +feeling of almost fiendish hatred. When she saw the bright look of joy +which passed over Fanny’s face as the doctor whispered to her, she pressed +her small white hands together until her long transparent nails left their +impress in her flesh! + +Just then Mr. Miller, with his wife upon his arm, approached the spot +where the doctor was standing, and said, "Why, doctor, what has happened? +You look almost as happy as I feel. And little Fanny, too, is really +looking quite rosy. I should not be surprised if my wedding should be a +prelude to another." + +Julia could hear no more, but sick with anger, she turned away, heartily +wishing Mr. Miller was in California digging gold with the water six feet +deep all around him! When the company began to disperse Dr. Lacey +whispered to Fanny that he wished her to remain a few moments, as he had +something to say to her. Accordingly, after the parlor was deserted, he +drew her to the sofa and placing his arm around her, told her of the plan +which he had marked out for her improvement during the next two years. To +all that he required Fanny promised a cheerful compliance, and he +proceeded to tell her how he would in the meantime beautify his Southern +home, and fill it up with every luxury which could please a refined, +delicate female. By the time he had finished Fanny was weeping from excess +of happiness. + +"It seems so strange," said she, "that you should prefer me to any one +else, me, who am so plain looking, so—" + +"So pure-minded and innocent," interrupted Dr. Lacey, "and so lovely, too, +for to me you are very handsome. Not as beautiful, perhaps, as Mrs. +Miller, for there are few who are, and yet I like your looks quite as +well." + +Fanny did not reply; after a moment’s silence he said, "Fanny, I shall be +obliged to go to New Orleans soon." + +"Go to New Orleans," said Fanny. "Oh, no, don’t." + +"But I must," answered he. "Business of importance calls me there." + +"How soon must you go?" + +"In two weeks," he replied. + +"And how long will you be gone?" + +"Probably three months," he answered. "But I shall write to you often; +twice a week, perhaps, and you will find enough to do to answer my letters +and attend to your studies, besides practicing your music lessons. By the +way, Fanny, I wish you to pay particular attention to music, for you know +I am very fond of it." + +Fanny promised that she would, and they separated for the night. While +Fanny was going to her room, she determined she would tell Julia all her +future prospects; but she found her sister either asleep or pretending to +be (the latter was the fact); so she said nothing, but lay down without +disturbing her. She could not sleep, however, and toward morning Julia +called out, in no very gentle tones, "Do lie still, Fan, or else get up +and go down in the parlor and have another tete-a-tete with Dr. Lacey." + +Fanny saw that her sister was awake, and she resolved to improve the +opportunity, even if Julia were not in a very gentle mood. So she said, +"Sister, I want to tell you something; wake up, won’t you?" + +"Wake up!" answered Julia. "I should like to know who’s been asleep, or +who can sleep where you are? What is the great secret you wish to tell +me?" + +With many blushes and some stammering Fanny got through with her story. +After she had finished Julia was silent a few moments and then said, +"Well, what of it? What if Dr. Lacey has promised to marry you? Is that +any reason why you should keep me awake all night?" + +Fanny did not answer, and as her mind was relieved from the weighty matter +of telling her sister, she soon fell asleep, and when she awoke the sun +was high in the heavens, and Mrs. Miller was bending over her, wishing her +a "Merry Christmas!" That day there was sent to Mrs. Crane’s a large box, +which Dr. Lacey was very particular to have handled carefully. When it was +opened it was found to contain an elegant rosewood piano, and a note in +which was written, "A Christmas Gift for Fanny." The delighted girl did +not ask who was the giver, for she well knew; and resolved to apply +herself closely to music, so as to do justice to the beautiful present. + +The two weeks of Dr. Lacey’s stay passed rapidly away, and at their close +he bade Fanny an affectionate good-by, promising to write regularly twice +a week, and to return, if possible, at the end of three months. After he +was gone, it seemed to Fanny that one-half of her life had left her, and +she felt very unhappy. There was something in her sister’s manner which +she could not define, and as Julia seemed anxious to avoid her, she spent +much of her time with Mrs. Miller, who each day grew fonder of her little +"Kentucky sister," as she often called her in imitation of her brother. + +Meanwhile Julia spent all her leisure hours with Mrs. Carrington, to whom +she confided her feelings and wishes. Mrs. Carrington was not displeased +to find that Julia was determined to break the engagement between Dr. +Lacey and Fanny, and secretly hoped she would succeed. Not that she wished +to aid Julia in securing the doctor, for such was not her intention. +Neither did she look upon such an event as possible, for she felt sure +that Dr. Lacey never would fancy Julia, even if there were no Fannys in +the world; and supposing he did, she could easily remedy it by exposing +Julia’s wickedness. + +In due course of time a letter arrived for Fanny from Dr. Lacey. It was a +well-filled sheet and so full of affection and kind suggestions for her +improvement, that Fanny felt an increased pleasure in thinking that she +was the object of Dr. Lacey’s love. Julia watched her with an evil eye, as +she read the letter, and when she saw the look of joy which lit up every +feature, she thought, "Yes, read on and enjoy it—do—for you’ll not get +many more such!" + +That day after school she started out for the purpose of laying the +foundation for the fulfillment of a part of her plans. There was in the +post-office a clerk whose name was Joseph Dunn. He was an awkward, +rawboned young man, about six feet two inches high. Until within a few +months he had lived near Mr. Middleton. He had a yellow face, yellow hair +and yellow teeth, the latter of which projected over his under lip. He +also drove a very yellow horse and rode in a yellow buggy. In his own +estimation he was perfectly irresistible, and imagined he had only to say +the word and all the girls in the country would eagerly accept the offer +of being mistress of his fancy colored horse and person. For Fanny he had +conceived a violent passion and wondered much that she should repel all +his serious advances. At last he wrote her a letter saying that on a +certain afternoon he would visit her and make a formal offer of his hand. +He bade her weigh the matter seriously, so that she would have no one to +blame but herself, if she should ever regret answering in the affirmative. + +Fanny was very much annoyed by this letter and when on the afternoon +specified she saw old "sorrel" coming up to the gate, she said, "Father, +there is Joe coming here to offer me the honor of becoming Mrs. Dunn. He +troubles me exceedingly with his attentions, and I wish you would manage +to make him keep away." + +Thus enlightened, Mr. Middleton was ready for any emergency, and he +answered Joe’s confident knock in person. The young man greeted him with a +very polite, "Good afternoon," to which Mr. Middleton returned with a +significant "umph!" + +"Is your daughter Fanny at home?" asked Mr. Dunn. + +"Yes, she’s at home," said Mr. Middleton. "What d’ye want of her?" + +"I should like to have a few moments’ private conference with her, if +you’ve no objection, sir," replied Mr. Dunn. + +"A few moments private fiddlestick," answered Mr. Middleton. "What the +devil—whose little boy are you? Ain’t you Miss Dunn’s little boy? You’d +better scratch gravel for home, and if I catch you here again dickerin’ +after Fanny, I’ll pull every corn-colored hair out of your head!" + +This rebuff somewhat cooled the ardor of Joseph’s attachment, and as he +felt sure that Fanny had told her father of his coming, he from that time +disliked her as much as he had before admired her. Not long after the sad +finale of his affaire de coeur, he left his home in the country, and going +to Frankfort became a clerk in the post office. Julia well knew the old +grudge which he had toward Fanny, and as he did not possess the best +principles in the world, she had strong hopes of procuring his services +for the accomplishment of her purpose. Accordingly, at about half past +five she bent her steps in the direction of the post office, hoping to see +him in the street, for she knew that he usually went to his supper at that +hour. She had not gone far beyond the post office when he overtook her. +She greeted him with her blandest smile, and as she seemed inclined to be +very sociable, he slackened his pace for the sake of walking with her. +They had not proceeded far when she said, "Mr. Dunn, if you are not in a +particular hurry, I should like to have you walk on with me, as I have +something to communicate to you." + +Joseph was delighted, and yet he knew not what to think. The haughty Julia +had formerly treated him with disdain; but within a week or two her +conduct toward him had changed, and she seemed to seek his society, and +now she had even asked him to walk with her. What could it mean? He was +not long kept in ignorance, for in a few words Julia explained her wishes. +"You know, Mr. Dunn," said she, "that I have money and I am willing to pay +you almost any amount, and then it is such a rare opportunity for being +revenged upon Fanny, who did abuse you shamefully, and even now makes all +manner of fun of you. It will not be much trouble for you," she continued, +"for you can watch our box, and whenever a letter arrives from Dr. Lacey, +you can lay it aside until you have an opportunity of giving it to me, and +you can do the same with Fanny’s letters!" + +Joseph did not hesitate long, for the love of money was strong in him, and +he also had a desire for revenging his fancied insult. Julia’s manner +toward him was not without its effect, for he felt greatly flattered that +she should choose him for a confidant; so at last he promised to accede to +her proposal on condition that he was well paid. + +"It will be well enough," said Julia, "to let her have three or four +letters, as it would not be natural for him to forget her immediately, you +know." + +"Oh, yes, ma’am," said Mr. Dunn, "I understand how to do it. Never fear +but I’ll fix it right." + +"Well, then, here is a part of your pay in advance," said Julia, as she +slipped a ten-dollar note into his hand. At first he seemed inclined not +to take it but finally did so, saying, "I suppose I ought to be paid, for +it’s mighty ticklish business." + +After having arranged affairs to her satisfaction, Julia bade Mr. Dunn a +very friendly good night, and returned home where she found Fanny employed +in writing an answer to Dr. Lacey’s letter. Here, for the present, we will +leave them, until Julia’s plot has time to ripen. + + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + + MR. MIDDLETON HAS MORE CALLERS FROM NEW YORK + + +The reader will now accompany us to Geneva, one of the most beautiful +villages in Western New York. On arriving at the depot we are beset by a +host of runners, who call out lustily, "Temperance House!" "Franklin +House!" "Geneva Hotel!" "Carriage to any part of the village for a +shilling!" But we prefer walking, and passing up Water Street, and Seneca +street, we soon come to Main street, which we follow until we come to a +large, elegant mansion, the property of Judge Fulton, who is that evening +entertaining a fashionable party. No matter if we are not invited, we can +enter unperceived and note down what is taking place. + +Our attention is first directed toward the judge and his accomplished +lady, who are doing the honors of the evening. As we scan their looks +closely, we are struck with their features, and we feel sure that to them +wealth was not given in vain, and that the beggar never left their door +unfed or uncared for. + +Mrs. Fulton’s countenance looks very familiar to us, and we wonder much +where we have seen her before, or if we never have seen her, who it is +that she so strongly reminds us of. Before we can solve the mystery, we +observe across the room a face which makes us start up and exclaim, "Is it +possible! Can that be Dr. Lacey?" A second look at the gentleman in +question convinces us that he is two inches shorter than Dr. Lacey, and +also that he wears glasses; still be bears a striking resemblance to the +doctor, and we inquire who he is. We are told that his name is Robert +Stanton. He is a graduate of Yale and a brother of Mrs. Fulton, He is +intending in a few days to start for Kentucky, in company with Frederic +Raymond, who was a classmate of his. + +As we watch young Stanton’s movements, we observe a certain restlessness +in his eye, as it wanders over the crowded room, seemingly in quest of +some one who is not there. At last there is a new arrival, and Miss +Warner, a very prim lady and a teacher in the seminary, is announced, +together with three of her pupils. As the young girls enter the parlor, +Mr. Stanton seems suddenly animated with new life, and we feel sure that +one of those young ladies has a great attraction for him. Nor are we +mistaken, for he soon crosses the room, and going up to one of them, a +rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed girl, he says in a low tone, "I am glad you have +come, Nellie. I had almost given you up, and concluded you were doing +penance for some misdemeanor, and so could not come out." Then taking her +upon his arm, he kept her near him all the evening. + +There was a strange history connected with Helen Ashton, or Nellie, as she +was more familiarly called, but of this we will speak hereafter. She was +formerly a member of the young ladies’ school in New Haven, where she had +become acquainted with Robert Stanton, who was in college. An intimacy +sprang up between them which at last ripened into an agreement. Stanton’s +home was near Geneva, and when he left college he suddenly discovered that +the Geneva Seminary was superior to any other, and with but little trouble +he persuaded Nellie to go there to school. + +She had now been an inmate of the seminary in that place little more than +a year, during which time Robert had pursued the study of law in Judge +Fulton’s office. He had always possessed a great desire to visit Kentucky, +and had finally concluded to do so, determining if he liked it to make it +his permanent residence. He was to return the next autumn for Nellie, who +was to remain in school until that time. + +As they stood together that evening conversing about Kentucky, Nellie +said, "I have an old schoolmate in Frankfort. It is Kate Wilmot. Do you +remember having seen her in New Haven?" + +"Is she very beautiful?" asked Robert. + +"Oh, yes, exceedingly so. She turned half the students’ heads," answered +Nellie. + +"Yes, I remember her perfectly well," said Frederic Raymond, who was +standing near, "and so does Bob, but he wants to pretend he does not. By +the way, Miss Ashton," continued he, "are you not afraid that Kate’s +marvelous beauty will endanger your claim upon Robert’s heart, when he +shall be near her constantly, and can only think of your blue eyes as +’over the hills and far away?’" + +Helen blushed, but did not answer, and Stanton said, "Never fear for me, +Fred, but rather keep your own heart safely locked away, for fear some of +those dark-eyed Kentucky girls will, ere you are aware, rifle you of it." + +"I shall do no such thing," returned Frederic. "I am going there for the +express purpose of losing my heart, and the first Kentucky girl which +pleases me shall be my wife, any way." + +"Whether she likes you or not?" asked Nellie. + +"Yes, whether she likes me or not," answered Frederic, "I shall marry her +first, and make her like me afterward." + +So saying he sauntered off to another part of the room, little thinking +that what he had spoken in jest would afterward prove true. At a late hour +the company began to disperse, Miss Warner keeping a watchful eye upon her +pupils, lest some lawless collegiate should relieve her from the trouble +of seeing them safely home. This perpendicular maiden had lived forty +years on this mundane sphere without ever having had an offer, and she had +come to think of gentlemen as a race of intruding bipeds which the world +would be much better without. However, if there were any of the species +which she could tolerate, it was Judge Fulton and Robert Stanton. The +former she liked, because everybody liked him, and said he was a "nice +man, and what everybody said must be true." Her partiality for the latter +arose from the fact that he had several times complimented her fine figure +and dignified manners; so when he that night asked the privilege of +walking home with Nellie, she raised no very strong opposition, but +yielded the point by merely saying something about "child’s play." She, +however, kept near enough to them to hear every word of their +conversation; but they consoled themselves by thinking that the wide-open +ears could not penetrate the recesses of their well-filled letters which +they saw in the future. + +In a few days Stanton and Raymond started for Kentucky. The evening before +they left was spent by Stanton in Nellie’s company. Mrs. Fulton had +invited her to pass the night with her, as the Judge was absent from home. +About ten o’clock Mrs. Fulton very considerately grew sleepy, and retired +to her own room. But long after the town clock rang out the hour of +midnight, a light might have been seen gleaming from the windows of Judge +Fulton’s sitting room, in which sat Robert and Nellie, repeating for the +hundredth time vows of eternal constancy. + +The next morning when the last rumbling sound of the eastern train died +away in the streets of Geneva, Nellie Ashton sat weeping in her little +room at the seminary. She felt that now she was again alone in the wide, +wide world. Eight years before she had in the short space of three weeks +followed both father and mother to their last resting place, and upon +their newly-made graves she had prayed the orphan’s prayer, that God would +protect one who was without father, mother, brother or sister in the +world. + +The little property of her father was sold for the payment of his debts, +and Nellie, who was then but twelve years old, was obliged to labor both +early and late for her daily bread. Her father had lived near the city of +New York, and not long after his death she procured a situation in a +wealthy family of that city. She was called "the girl to do chores," which +meant that she was kept running from garret to cellar, from parlor to +kitchen, first here and then there, from earliest dawn to latest evening. +It was almost always eleven o’clock before she could steal away to her low +bed in the dark garret, and often, in the loneliness of the night, would +the desolate child pray that the God with whom her parents dwelt would +look in pity upon the helpless orphan. + +Ere long her prayer was answered, for there came to the house where she +lived a gentleman and lady, who saw the "little kitchen girl." Something +there was in her sad but intelligent face which attracted their notice, +and they inquired her history of Mrs. Stanley, the lady with whom she +lived. + +"She is," said Mrs. Stanley, "a good enough girl, if she would only let +books alone; but she seems to have a passion for study, quite unsuitable +for one in her station. When she is cleaning the knives she will have a +book before her; and instead of singing the baby to sleep, she will get +down and read to her, or repeat something which she has learned." + +"And has she no relatives?" asked the gentleman. + +"None living that I know of," said Mrs. Stanley; and then she added, +"Nellie says she had a brother who was several years older than herself, +and that three years ago he was one morning missing, and they found on his +table a letter, saying that he had gone to sea on a whaling voyage, and +would be gone three years. Her father afterward heard that the vessel in +which his son sailed was supposed to be lost with all its crew. This is +her story; but you can never tell how much to believe of the stories which +such girls tell." + +"Did you ever detect her in a falsehood?" asked the gentleman. + +"Why, no, I never did; but of course she will equivocate, for all such +paupers will." + +"With whom did she live before she came here?" continued the gentleman. + +"With a Mr. Barnard," answered Mrs. Stanley; and she continued laughingly, +"You had better inquire about her of him, as you seem so much interested +in her. He lives out a few miles in the country." + +The result of the conversation was that the Mr. Barnard mentioned above +received the next day a call from a stranger, who made particular inquiry +about little Helen Ashton. He seemed satisfied with the result, and as he +had before learned that Mr. Barnard was a very good, honest man, he handed +him five hundred dollars, telling him to take Nellie home—as she called +Mr. Barnard’s house—and to send her for two years to the district school. +At the end of that time he would furnish funds for her to be educated in +New Haven. + +There was great excitement in Mrs. Stanley’s family when it was known that +Nellie was to go away and be sent to school in New Haven. "I wonder," said +Mrs. Stanley, "who pays the expenses? It can’t be Judge —— (naming the +gentleman who had seemed so much interested in Nellie), for I am sure he +would not be stupid enough to take a street beggar, as it were, and +educate her." A second thought convinced her that it must be the said +gentleman, and she suddenly felt an inclination to do something herself +for the hitherto neglected kitchen girl. + +Accordingly, Nellie was summoned to the parlor and the state of her +wardrobe inquired into. It was found to be lamentably deficient in even +the necessary articles of clothing. Mrs. Stanley then turned her rag bag +inside out and rummaged through several boxes in the garret which had not +seen the light for several years. The result of her search was three or +four cast-off garments, which the cook said "were so bad the rag man would +hardly buy them." Mrs. Stanley, however, thought they were quite a gift, +and gave Nellie many injunctions as to when she should wear them. Nellie +thought it doubtful whether she should wear them all; but she said +nothing, and in a few days she left Mrs. Stanley’s house for a more +pleasant home at Mr. Barnard’s. + +It was a great mystery to Nellie who it could be that had befriended her; +but if Mr. Barnard knew, he kept the knowledge to himself, and Nellie was +obliged to remain in ignorance. She was, however, satisfied that the +gentleman, whoever he was, was both able and willing to carry out his +plan, for money for the payment of her school bills was regularly remitted +to Mr. Barnard. At the time when she wished to leave New Haven, she had +written to Mr. Barnard on the subject, and in due time had received from +him a letter saying that the gentleman who was educating her was not only +willing but anxious to have her sent to Geneva. + +Soon after her arrival there she chanced to meet Judge Fulton and his +wife. Something in their looks seemed familiar, and also awoke a painful +reminiscence of the dark kitchen and the lone garret far off in the great +city. She could not remember ever having seen them, and so dismissed the +subject from her mind, merely wondering if they knew that she who was to +be their brother’s wife once lighted fires and cleaned potatoes as a +common servant girl. + +The reader will perhaps have imagined that the gentleman who befriended +Nellie was none other than Judge Fulton. He was incited to this act of +kindness by the same benevolent feeling which prompted all his deeds of +charity. He had no daughters, and his intention was, first to see what +improvement she would make of her advantages, and if he were satisfied, he +would take her home as his adopted daughter. He was somewhat surprised +when, two years before the time of which we are speaking, he received +through Mr. Barnard a letter from Nellie addressed to, "My unknown +benefactor," and desiring his consent to an engagement between herself and +Robert Stanton. The same mail brought a letter from Robert, saying that he +had just made an offer of his hand to a Miss Helen Ashton, who was only +waiting for her guardian to sanction her choice. Judge Fulton’s consent +was given, and he wrote to Nellie that before she was married he would +make himself known to her, and give her a wedding at his own house. + +A few days before Robert left for Kentucky Judge Fulton received another +letter from Nellie, saying that it was Mr. Stanton’s wish to be married +the ensuing autumn. To this the judge gave his approval and determined as +soon as Robert was gone to enlighten Nellie as to who her guardian was. +This, then, was the history of Nellie Ashton, whom we will leave for a +time, and as our readers are probably anxious to return to the bland +climate of Kentucky, we will follow young Stanton and Raymond on their +journey. Having arrived at Buffalo, they took passage in the steamboat +Saratoga, which landed them safely in Sandusky after a trip of about +twenty-four hours. At Sandusky they took the cars for Cincinnati. + +As they neared the Queen City, they noticed at one of the stations a tall, +intelligent, but rather reckless-looking young man, who entered the cars +and took a seat directly opposite them. There was something peculiarly +attractive to Raymond in the confident, self-possessed manner of the +stranger, and ere long he had, to use a Yankee expression, "scraped +acquaintance" with him, and learned that his name was Henry Ashton, and +that he too was on his way to Frankfort, where he resided. As the young +man told his name, Raymond turned to Stanton and said, "I should think +that you’d feel acquainted with this gentleman, you are so partial to his +name." + +Stanton did not answer, and Raymond proceeded to question Mr. Ashton about +Frankfort and its inhabitants. "By the way," said he, "are there any +pretty girls there? Substantial ones, I mean, who have a purse long enough +to pay a fellow for the trouble of marrying them?" + +Mr. Ashton smiled and answered, "Yes, we have a good many, and rich ones +too; but the belle of the city when I left was a Mrs. Carrington—" + +"The plague it was!" interrupted Raymond, "and can’t we get rid of her +husband somehow? Won’t he die of yellow fever, cholera or something? Or is +he a gouty old wretch, who will live forever?" + +"You prevented me from telling you," said Mr. Ashton, "that Mr. Carrington +has died since I left there. But you will hardly win this fair, haughty +lady, unless you can plank about a million. But there are other faces +quite as pretty, I think. There is a Julia Middleton, who is attending +school. She is a great beauty, but, if report speaks truly, she would keep +you busily employed in curbing her high temper." + +"No matter about the temper—has she got the dimes?" said Raymond. + +"About one hundred thousand dollars, I think," answered Ashton; "but one +would need to be paid that much for having such a fury as she is, and such +a queer old rat as her father." + +He then proceeded to enumerate some of Mr. Middleton’s oddities, at all of +which his auditors laughed heartily, and expressed their determination to +make the old man’s acquaintance as soon as possible. When the young men +reached Cincinnati, they concluded to take the stage route to Lexington +and Versailles, and to pay Mr. Middleton a visit before they proceeded to +Frankfort. Accordingly on Thursday afternoon, just as the sun was setting, +they entered Mr. Middleton’s yard, where they were received by the dogs, +with just such a demonstration of anger as had greeted Mr. Wilmot more +than a year before. + +The master of the house was this time at home, and soon appearing at the +door, he called out to the negroes who were in the yard, "Ho, thar, boys! +Stuff your woolly heads down them tarnal dogs’ throats and make them stop +their yellin’! Glad to see you—walk in. Moses and Aaron! If this ain’t +Ashton from Frankfort. How d’ye do? How d’ye do?" + +Mr. Ashton shook hands with him, and then introduced his companions, +saying they were from New York. The word New York seemed to thrill Mr. +Middleton’s nerves like an electric shock. He seized both hands of the +young men and exclaimed, "From New York, hey? Then thrice welcome to my +old cabin and hominy; old Josh’s door is allus wide open to folks from New +York." Then leading the way to the sitting room, he continued, "Yes, my +own noble boy was from New York, but he died (this is my old woman Nancy, +gentlemen). I don’t see why in the old Harry he couldn’t of lived. But he +died and they kivered him up while I was gone, and I never seen him no +more. Ho! Here, Tilda, fetch some hot water and make a little sling for +these chaps. It’ll do ’em good, as it’s mighty cold and raw like out o’ +door." + +The sling was made, and Ashton and Raymond drank readily and freely; but +when it was offered to Stanton, he modestly but firmly refused. "What upon +airth!" said Mr. Middleton, "not drink when a friend asks you? Why, boy, +just take a swaller." + +Here Raymond, who was ready to adopt Mr. Middleton’s language and manners, +exclaimed, "I’ll tell you what, old boy, Bob’s left a sweetheart in New +York, and I fancy she lectured him on intemperance, for you know the women +are dead set against it." + +Mr. Middleton looked first at Raymond, then at Stanton and said, "Well, he +knows good sense by not touchin’ on’t, I reckon. Got a sweetheart, hey? +That’s better than to come here and marry some of our spitfires. Poor boy! +Dick was engaged to one of ’em, and I’ve hearn that she raised a tantareen +and broke his heart. But I’ll fix her! I’ll dock off fifty thousand to pay +for that caper." + +Here Mr. Ashton asked if Mr. Middleton’s daughters were still at +Frankfort. "Yes," returned Mr. Middleton, "both thar, study in’ all the +flat things you can think on, and thummin’ away on the pianner. You’ll see +’em thar; but mind me one and all, mind I say, don’t fall in love with +Sunshine, for she’s engaged, and I’ve gin my consent, and whoever meddles +in that match’ll find Josh after ’em!" By way of adding emphasis to his +words he brought his fist back against a work-stand, on which stood his +wife’s work basket. The stand was upset, and all the articles of the +basket rolled on the floor. "Great Peter!" said Mr. Middleton, "ho, Tilda, +come pick up these ’ere things!" + +Tilda came at the call of her master. While she was replacing the articles +in her mistress’ basket, Raymond, who wished to show that he was ready to +adopt all the peculiarities of the State, said, "That’s a valuable looking +negro girl. I suppose your property mostly consists in such as she. I +don’t wonder that you object to give them up just to please the North. +Have you many such?" + +"Yes, quite a heap on ’em. Why? Want to steal ’em, hey?" + +Raymond reddened. His attempts at anti-abolition had not succeeded as well +as he anticipated; but he soon rallied and said, "Certainly not; I +shouldn’t know what to do with your slaves if I had them; besides I have +no inclination to interfere with your Southern institutions. I am too much +of a pro-slavery man myself." + +"Likely enough," said Mr. Middleton, rather gruffly, for he did not much +like the appearance of Raymond, "likely enough. But, young man, let old +Josh give you a little advice. I’ve seen more than double your years, I +reckon, and I never seen a man come from the free states that wasn’t a +little teched with abolitionism. It’s nateral like and onnateral to change +their mind so mighty soon. So I advise you to keep your opinions to +yourself for a spell, any way. A heap on ’em come here, and are surprised +not to find a whippin’ post stuck up in a corner of every yard. I don’t +say you are one of ’em; but we don’t think no better of a body when they +jine in with us so soon." + +This speech somewhat disconcerted young Raymond, who was anxious to get +into Mr. Middleton’s good graces; but his discomfiture was soon removed by +his saying, "Boy, don’t take what I’ve said in high dudgeon. Folks allus +see the roughest side of me first; I’m a friend to you, and allus will be +as long as you do well." Then chancing to think his guests were hungry, he +called out, "Saints and angels! Why don’t you bring in supper, you lazy +bones thar in the kitchen? Do you hear?" + +"Yes, marster," said three or four negroes at once, "supper’ll be ready +d’rectly." + +In a few moments the nicely-cooked spare-rib was smoking on the table, +together with hot coffee, boiled turnips and egg bread, which Southern +cooks know so well how to make. Besides this there was the golden-colored +butter, white flaky honeycomb, and the Sunday pitcher overflowing with +rich creamy milk. "Come, boys, set by and have some fodder!" said Mr. +Middleton. + +The young gentlemen took their seats at the table and Mr. Middleton +continued, "Now lay into ’t and help yourselves. I ain’t used to perlite +strains, and if I should try you’d all larf at me—mebby you want to now. +Tempest say’s I’m enough to make a dog larf." + +"Who is Tempest? One of your servants?" asked Stanton. + +"Christopher Columbus! One of my servants!" answered Mr. Middleton. "How +Tempest would rar to hear that. Why, she’s my oldest gal." + +"I beg your pardon," said Stanton. + +"Not a bit on’t," answered Mr. Middleton. "I don’t wonder you thought so, +such an oudun name! Her real name is Julia, but I call her Tempest, ’case +that’s jist like her. She’s a regular thunderstorm of lightning, hail and +iron slugs. You’ll see her in Frankfort. Goin’ into the law thar, are +you?" + +Stanton answered that he thought he should. + +"Well," said Mr. Middleton, "I’ll give you all my suits, just because you +wouldn’t drink and tell a lie to that little gal at home. I despise liars. +Let me catch a body telling me a lie, I tell you—" + +Here he lifted up his huge foot which was encased in a cowhide boot, +something smaller than a canal-boat. He gave the table a kick which set +all the spoons, knives and forks to dancing, spilt the milk and upset the +gravy pot. + +"Why, Mr. Middleton!" interposed his wife. + +"I am sorry, honey," said he, "but I’ll be hanged if that ar sling ain’t +gettin’ the better of the old man." + +After supper was over and the effects of the sling had left Mr. +Middleton’s head, he inquired further into the intentions of his guests. +On learning that Mr. Raymond would teach, if he could get the chance, Mr. +Middleton said, "I reckon you can teach in Mr. Miller’s school. I’ll write +to him about you, and I reckon he can make room for you." + +It was well for Raymond that Mr. Middleton did not observe his smile of +contempt at the idea of being recommended by such an "old cur," as he +secretly styled him. + +At a late hour Mr. Middleton conducted the young men to their room, saying +as they entered it, "This was Dick’s room, poor dear boy! For his sake I +wish ’twas better, for it was sometimes cold like in the winter; but he’s +warm enough now, I reckon, poor fellow!" So saying, he left the room; but +Stanton noticed upon the old tin candlestick which his host had put upon +the table something which looked very much like tears, so large that he +was sure no one but Mr. Middleton could have wept them. + + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + + THE RESEMBLANCE OF THE COUSINS + + +Among Mr. Middleton’s negroes there was a boy twelve years of age whose +name was Bob. On the morning following the incidents narrated in the last +chapter, Bob was sent up to make a fire for "the young marsters." He had +just coaxed the coal and kindlings into a blaze, when Raymond awoke, and +spying the negro, called out, "Hello, there! Tom, Dick, Harry, what may be +your name?" + +"My name is Bob, sar." + +"Oh, Bob is it? Bob what? Have you no other name?" + +"No, sar, ’cept it’s Marster Josh. I ’longs to him." + +"Belong to Master Josh, do you? His name isn’t Josh, it is Joshua." + +"Yes, marster." + +"Well, then, Bob, if his name is Joshua, what must yours be?" said +Raymond. + +"Dun know, unless it’s Bobaway," answered the negro, with a broad grin. + +"Bobaway! That’s rich," said Raymond, laughing heartily at the rapid +advancement of his pupil. + +After a moment’s pause, he again called out, "I say, Bobaway, did it snow +last night?" + +"No, sar, it didn’t snow; it done frosted," said Bob. + +"Done frosted, hey?" said Raymond. "You’re a smart boy, Bob. What’ll you +sell yourself for?" + +"Dun know; hain’t nothing to sell ’cept my t’other hat and a bushel of +hickory-nuts," answered Bob; "but I reckon how marster ax about five +hundred, ’case I’s right spry when I hain’t got the rheumatiz." + +"Got the rheumatiz, have you, Bob? Where?" + +"In my belly, sar," answered Bob. Here the young men burst into a loud +laugh, and Raymond said, "Five hundred is cheap, Bob; I’ll give more than +that." + +Bob opened his large white eyes to their utmost extent, and looking keenly +at Raymond slowly quitted the room. On reaching the kitchen he told Aunt +Judy, who was his mother, "that ef marster ever acted like he was goin’ +for to sell him to that ar chap, what poked fun at him, he’d run away, +sartin." + +"And be cotched and git shet up," said Aunt Judy. + +"I’d a heap rather be shet up ’tarnally than to ’long to anybody ’sides +Marster Josh," said Bob. + +During breakfast Mr. Middleton suddenly exclaimed, while looking at +Stanton, "I’ve been tryin’ ever since you’ve been here to think who you +look like, and I’ve jest thought. It’s Dr. Lacey." + +"Who, sir?" said Stanton in some surprise. + +"Dr. Lacey. D’ye know him?" asked Mr. Middleton. + +"Dr. Lacey of New Orleans?" asked Stanton. + +"The same," returned Mr. Middleton. "You look as much like him as two +peas, only you wear goggles. Connection of your’n I reckon?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Stanton, "he is my cousin. I have been told that we +resemble each other." + +"By Jupiter!" said Mr. Middleton, "that’s just the checker. No wonder I +like you so well. And Dr. Lacey goin’ to marry Sunshine, too. Your +sweetheart ought to look like Fanny. Got her picter, hey?" + +Stanton handed him Nellie’s daguerreotype, and he pretended to discover a +close resemblance between her and Fanny; but neither Mrs. Middleton, nor +Mr. Ashton could trace any, for which Mr. Middleton called them both +blockheads. + +"I think," said Mrs. Middleton, "that she looks more like Mr. Ashton than +she does like Fanny." + +"It is similarity of name which makes her resemble him," said Raymond. + +"Why, is her name Ashton?" asked Middleton. + +"Yes, sir," said Stanton. + +"Mebbe she’s your sister, Ashton. But Lord knows she don’t look no more +like you than she does like old Josh." + +"She cannot be my sister," said Ashton, "for I had but one, and she is +dead." + +After breakfast Mr. Middleton ordered out his carriage and bade Ike drive +the gentlemen to Frankfort. + +"I’d go myself," said he, "but I’ve got a fetched headache. Give my love +to my gals and tell them I’m comin’ to see ’em shortly. You’d better go to +the Whizzakor House, till you find out whether or not Miss Crane ’ll board +you." + +The young men thanked him for his hospitality, and bade him good morning. +As they were leaving the yard they passed Bob, who was still limping with +the "rheumatiz." Raymond bade Ike stop, while he threw "Bobaway" some +pennies. Bob picked them up and looked at them with a rueful face. + +"What’s the matter, Bobaway?" asked Raymond. "Don’t they suit?" + +"No, sir," said Bob. "I like fopences; I don’t want nothin’ of these old +iron rocks." + +Each of the men threw Bob a sixpence, for which they were rewarded with a +sight of his ivories and a loud "thank-ee-sar." After a ride of two hours +they reached the Weisiger House in Frankfort. Soon after arriving there, +Mr. Ashton introduced Stanton into one of the best law offices in the +town, and then repaired to his former lodgings. + +In the course of the afternoon Raymond sought out Mr. Miller, and with a +somewhat quizzical face handed him Mr. Middleton’s letter of introduction. +After reading it, Mr. Miller offered his hand to Raymond, and said, "I am +glad, Mr. Raymond, that you happened here just at this time, for my school +is large, and I am in want of a classical teacher. You are a graduate of +Yale, it seems?" + +"Yes, sir," returned Raymond; "and by the way, Mr. Middleton told me that +you had won a New Haven girl—Miss Kate Wilmot. I knew her very well." + +"Ah, is it possible?" said Mr. Miller, his face beaming. "Come with me to +Mrs. Crane’s," said he. "Kate will be glad to see an old friend." + +"Thank you," answered Raymond; "but I have a companion with me, a Mr. +Stanton, who also knew Miss Wilmot. He is going into a law office here. We +both of us intend calling at Mrs. Crane’s this evening, and if possible we +shall procure board there." + +So they parted, and Raymond returned to the Weisiger House, while Mr. +Miller hastened home to make some inquiries concerning his new assistant, +and to inform Mrs. Crane of her prospect for more boarders. + +That evening Stanton and Raymond called. They found assembled in Mrs. +Crane’s parlor, Mr. and Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Carrington and Julia. Kate +instantly recognized the young gentlemen as old acquaintances, and +presented them to her friends. When Stanton entered the room all observed +the strong resemblance between him and Dr. Lacey. At last Mr. Miller spoke +of it, and Stanton replied, "Yes, I’ve been told so before. Dr. Lacey is +my cousin." + +"Indeed!" said Mr. Miller. Then turning to his wife, he added, "Where is +Fanny? She ought to be here. It might do her as much good as seeing the +doctor himself." + +"I should like to see Miss Fanny," said Stanton, "as I am told she is to +be my cousin." + +A malicious smile curled Julia’s lip, as she thought, "I think it is very +doubtful whether she is ever your cousin"; but Mrs. Miller arose and said, +"I think she is in her room. I will call her." + +Going to Fanny’s room she knocked gently at the door; there was no +response, and she knocked again more loudly. But still there was no +answer; and Mrs. Miller thought she could distinguish a low, stifled sob. +Pushing open the door, she saw the usually gay-hearted Fanny seated on the +floor, her head resting on a chair, over which her hair fell like a golden +gleam of sunlight. A second glance convinced Kate that Fanny was weeping. + +"Why, Fanny," said she, "what is the matter? What are you crying for?" + +Fanny did not reply, but as Mrs. Miller drew her up from the floor and +placed her on the sofa, she laid her head in Kate’s lap and wept still +more passionately. At length Mrs. Miller succeeded in soothing her, and +then insisted on knowing what was the cause of her distress. + +"Oh," said Fanny, "do not ask me, for I can only tell you that nobody +loves me long at a time—nobody but my dear old father, mother, and the +blacks." + +"You should not say so, Fanny dear," said Kate. "You know we all love you +very much, and you say that within a few weeks Julia has been uniformly +kind and affectionate to you." + +"Yes, I know she is, but—" + +"But what?" said Mrs. Miller. "Anything the trouble with Dr. Lacey?" + +"Yes, that’s it! That’s it!" said Fanny in a low voice. + +"Why, what’s the matter? Is he sick?" asked Kate. + +"Oh, no. If he were I would go to him. But, Mrs. Miller, for four long +weeks he has not written me one word. Now if he were sick or dead, +somebody would write to me; but it isn’t that—I am afraid he’s false. +Julia thinks he is, and she is sorry for me, there is some comfort in +that." + +"Not written in four weeks? Perhaps he has written and his letters have +been miscarried," said Kate. + +"Oh, no, that cannot be," answered Fanny. "His first four letters came in +the course of two weeks, but since then I have not had a word." + +"Have you written to him since his letters ceased?" asked Kate. + +"Yes, once, and I am sorry I did," answered Fanny; "but I asked Julia if I +had better, and she said it would do no harm." + +"Perhaps," said Mrs. Miller, "he is intending to return soon and wishes to +surprise you, or it may be he is testing the strength of your attachment. +But I would not suffer myself to be so much distressed until I was sure he +was false. Come, dry your eyes and go with me to the parlor. There are +some young gentlemen here from New York. One of them is Dr. Lacey’s +cousin. He wishes to see you." + +"Oh, no, no!" said Fanny, quickly. "I cannot go down. You must excuse me +to him." + +So Mrs. Miller returned to the parlor, and said Fanny was not feeling very +well and wished to be excused. + +Stanton and Raymond passed a very pleasant evening, and ere its close they +had arranged with Mrs. Crane for rooms and board. On their way to the +hotel, Raymond suddenly exclaimed, "I say, Bob, I’m head over heels in +love!" + +"In love with whom?" was Stanton’s quiet reply. + +"In love with whom?" repeated Raymond. "Why, Bob, is it possible your head +is so full of Nellie Ashton that you do not know that we have been in +company this evening with a perfect Hebe, an angel, a divine creature?" + +"Please stop," said Stanton, "and not deal in so many superlatives. Which +of the fair ladies made such havoc with your heart? Was it Mrs. Crane?" + +"Mrs. Crane! Witch of Endor just as soon," answered Raymond. "Why, man +alive, ’twas the beautiful Mrs. Carrington. I tell you what, Bob, my +destiny is upon me and she is its star. I see in her my future wife." + +"Why, Fred," said Mr. Stanton, "are you crazy? Mrs. Carrington is at least +nearly thirty-five, and you are not yet twenty-five." + +"I don’t care for that," replied Raymond. "She may be thirty, and she may +be a hundred, but she looks sixteen. Such glorious eyes I never saw. And +she almost annihilated me with one of her captivating smiles. Her name, +too, is my favorite." + +"Her name? Pray, how did you learn her name?" asked Stanton. + +"Why," answered Raymond, "you know we were talking together a part of the +evening. Our conversation turned upon names, and I remarked that Ida was +my favorite. Bob, you ought to have seen her smile as she told me Ida was +her own name. Perhaps I said something foolish, for I replied that Ida was +a beautiful name and only fitted for such as she; but she smiled still +more sweetly and said I knew how to flatter." + +"Well," answered Stanton. "I hardly think you will win her, if what our +friend Ashton said is true. You have no million to offer her." + +"Oh, fly on your million!" said Raymond. "She’s got to have me any way. If +I can’t get her by fair means, I’ll resort to stratagem." + +Thus the young man raved for nearly half an hour about Mrs. Carrington, +whose handsome features, glossy curls, bright eyes, brilliant complexion +and agreeable manners had nearly turned his head. Mrs. Carrington, too, +had received an impression. There was something in Raymond’s dashing +manner, which she called "air," and she felt greatly pleased with his +flattering compliments. She thought he would be a very pleasant companion +to flirt with for an hour or two; but could she have known what his real +intentions concerning her were she would have spurned him with contempt—as +she afterward did. + +The next day at dinner Stanton and Raymond took their seats at Mrs. +Crane’s table. To Raymond’s great delight Mrs. Carrington sat opposite +him. Stanton occupied Dr. Lacey’s seat, which brought Fanny directly in +front of him. Fanny had been prepared in a measure for the striking +resemblance between Stanton and Dr. Lacey; but when she was introduced to +him, his looks brought Dr. Lacey so forcibly before her that she instantly +grew pale and half wished to leave the room. But a look from Mrs. Miller +reassured her, and she took her accustomed place at the table. + +Ere dinner was over she had forgotten for the time her lover’s neglect, +and was in the midst of an animated conversation with Stanton, who was +much pleased with his cousin’s choice. Stanton’s looks and manners were so +much like Dr. Lacey’s that Fanny felt herself irresistibly drawn toward +him and her face assumed a brighter aspect than it had worn for many days. +Julia watched her closely and felt that nothing could please her better +than a flirtation between Stanton and her sister. + +But such was not a part of Fanny’s intentions. She liked Stanton because +he was agreeable, intelligent and Dr. Lacey’s cousin; but she would sooner +have parted with her right hand than have done anything inconsistent with +her engagement with Dr. Lacey. On the other hand, Stanton’s heart was too +strongly fortified with Nellie’s charms to admit of an entrance to the +gentle Fanny. But he admired her very much, and seemed to think that she +had some claim upon him in the absence of his cousin. + +Thus, as days went on, his polite attentions toward Fanny increased, and +Julia resolved to make this fact work for the accomplishment of her +designs. + + + + + + CHAPTER X + + + TEMPEST FORGES A LETTER AND ITS RESULTS + + +Let us now go back for a few weeks and watch Julia’s plot as it +progresses. We have learned from Fanny that four letters arrived from Dr. +Lacey; but the fifth she was destined never to receive. She was expecting +it on Tuesday and was about going to the post office, when Julia said, +"Fanny, I feel just like walking this morning; suppose you let me run +round to the post office and get your expected letter." + +"Very well," answered Fanny; "but don’t be gone long." + +"I won’t," said Julia, gaily. "You sit down by the window and when I come +round the corner on my return home. I will hold up your letter, and you +will know you have one at least a minute before I reach home." + +So saying she departed, and Fanny sat down by the window to await her +return. For several days past there had been a change in Julia’s +deportment. She was very amiable and kind to the household in general and +to Fanny in particular. This was a part of her plan, so that in the +catastrophe that was about to follow, she might not be suspected of foul +play. + +At first Fanny was surprised at her affectionate advances, but it was so +pleasant to have a sister who would love her that she did not ask the +reason of so sudden a change, and when Julia very humbly asked forgiveness +for all her former unkindness, the innocent-hearted Fanny burst into +tears, and declared she had nothing to forgive, if her sister would only +continue to love her always. Julia placed a Judas-like kiss on Fanny’s +pure brow, and gave a promise that she would try to be good; but she +thought to herself, "this seeming change will make a favorable impression +on Dr. Lacey when he hears of it." + +She knew that Fanny was expecting a letter on the Tuesday morning of which +we have spoken, and fearing that by some means Mr. Dunn might fail of +securing it, she determined to go herself for the mail. When she reached +the post office the sinister smile with which Mr. Dunn greeted her assured +her that he had something for her, and she readily conjectured that it was +Fanny’s expected letter. + +"Good morning, Mr. Dunn!" said she. "Anything for me this morning?" + +"Yes, ma’am," answered Dunn, with a very low bow; and casting a furtive +glance around to make sure that no one saw him, he drew from his pocket a +letter, on which Julia instantly recognized Dr. Lacey’s handwriting. She +took it and placed it in the pocket of her dress. + +On her way home, conscience clamored loudly in behalf of Fanny’s rights. +It said, "Beware what you do! Give Fanny her letter. It is a crime to +withhold it." But again the monitress was stilled, and the crafty girl +kept on her way, firm in her sinful purpose, until she reached the corner +which brought her in sight of the window where Fanny was impatiently +watching for her. The sight of that bright, joyous face, as it looked from +the window, anxious for the expected sight of her letter, made Julia for a +moment waver. She thought how gentle and loving Fanny had always been to +her and involuntarily her hand sought the letter which lay like a crushing +weight in her pocket. It was half drawn from its hiding place when the +spirit of evil which seemed ever to follow Julia’s footsteps whispered, +"Let it alone. You have gone too far to retreat. You have Dr. Lacey to +win, and it can be done in no other way." + +Julia listened to the tempter, her hand was withdrawn, and Fanny looked in +vain for her letter. A faint sickness stole over her for a moment but she +thought, "Perhaps Julia means to tease me. I will appear very unconcerned +and not ask for it." So when Julia entered the room, she found that her +sister’s attention was suddenly, distracted by something in the street; +but Fanny was not accustomed to dissemble and the rosy flush on her cheek +showed how anxious she was. + +At last Julia said, "Why do you not ask for your letter, Fanny?" + +Oh, how eager was the expression of the sweet, pale face which was +instantly turned toward the speaker. Springing up she exclaimed, "Oh, +Julia, you have got me one, haven’t you? Please give it to me." + +"I will tomorrow when it arrives," said Julia. "It has probably been +delayed." + +Fanny’s countenance fell and she said, "Then you haven’t got me a letter? +Oh, I’m so sorry!" + +"Never mind, sister," said Julia. "It will come tomorrow, and will seem +all the better for waiting." + +Tomorrow came, but with it came no letter, and days wore on, until at last +it was Saturday night. Alone in her room poor Fanny was weeping bitterly. +Was Dr. Lacey sick or dead? This was the question which she continually +asked herself. A suspicion of his unfaithfulness had not yet entered her +mind. While she was yet weeping an arm was thrown affectionately round +her, and a voice whispered in the sweetest possible tones, "Dear sister, +do not weep so. If he were dead, some one would inform you. And now I +think of it, why do you not write to him? There would be no harm in doing +so. Come, sit down, and write him a few lines before dark, and I will take +them to the office." + +So Fanny sat down to her writing desk, and the few lines proved to be a +long letter ere she had finished. It was a most touchingly sad letter, and +ought to have drawn tears from Julia, instead of forcing the malicious +smile which played around her mouth while reading her sister’s effusion. +It is needless to say that, although Julia went to the post office, this +letter never did but was placed in a little box by the side of two others, +which had arrived from Dr. Lacey that week. + +After Julia returned from her walk that evening she said, "Fanny, if I +were you I would not tell any one that I did not hear from Dr. Lacey, for +you know it’s just possible that he may not be sick, and in that case your +best way would be to seem quite as forgetful of him." + +"Forgetful!" said Fanny. "Why, Julia, what do you mean? You cannot—Oh, no, +I know you do not think Dr. Lacey untrue to me?" And Fanny’s large blue +eyes were fixed on her sister with as much earnestness as though her +answer could decide her fate forever. + +"I do not like to think so, any more than you do," said Julia. "But Dr. +Lacey is now in the gay city of New Orleans, surrounded by beauty and +fashion, and were I his betrothed, I should not think it strange if he did +not remain true to me." + +Fanny answered slowly, as if speaking were painful to her, "Oh, no, no! He +cannot be false—anything but that." + +It was a new idea to her, and that night a weight of sadness, heavier than +she had ever known before, filled her heart. She thought, "I will wait and +see if he answers my letter before I believe him unfaithful." + +The next day was the Sabbath. About church time Julia announced her +intentions of remaining at home on the plea of a violent headache. Fanny +immediately offered to stay with her, but Julia declined, saying that +sooner than both should be absent from church she would go herself. + +Accordingly Julia was left alone. She watched her sister until she +disappeared down the street. Then she arose, and locking the door, drew +from her pocket a small key, and unlocking a rosewood box, took from it +one of Dr. Lacey’s letters. Going to her writing desk, she sat down and +commenced imitating his handwriting. She was very skillful in the art of +imitation, and was delighted to find herself rapidly succeeding in her +attempts at counterfeiting. So busily engaged was she that she did not +heed the lapse of time, until her sister’s footsteps were heard ascending +the stairs. She sprang hastily up, and thrusting her writing materials +into the box locked it, and had just time to throw herself upon the sofa +when Fanny knocked at the door. Julia allowed her to knock twice, and then +getting up she unfastened the door, at the same time yawning and rubbing +her eyes as if just awakened from a sound slumber. + +"Why, sister, I woke you up, didn’t I?" said Fanny. "I am sorry." + +"No matter," answered Julia, with another yawn, "I feel better. My nap has +done my head good." + +In the afternoon Fanny again went to church, and Julia resumed the +occupation of the morning. She succeeded so well that before church was +out she felt sure that after a few more attempts she could imitate Dr. +Lacey’s writing so exactly as to thoroughly deceive Fanny. "But not yet," +said she to herself; "I do not wish to test my skill yet. It is hardly +time." + +Thus the days glided away. Nearly two weeks passed, and there came no +answer to Fanny’s letter. She did not know that regularly, twice a week, +letters had arrived from New Orleans, and had been handed to Julia by Mr. +Dunn. In the last of these letters, Dr. Lacey complained because Fanny had +neglected writing so long. We will give the following extract: + +"MY PRECIOUS SUNSHINE: + +"—Can it be that you are sick? I do not wish to think so; and yet what +else can prevent your writing? I have not a thought that you are forgetful +of me, for you are too pure, too innocent to play me false. And yet I am +sometimes haunted by a vague fear that all is not right, for a dark shadow +seems resting over me. One line from you, dearest Fanny, will fill my +heart with sunshine again—" + +Thus wrote the doctor, and Julia commented on it as follows: "Yes, you are +haunted, and I am glad of it. The pill is working well; I’ll see whether +’Sunshine,’ as you and my old fool father call her, will steal away +everybody’s love for me. I suppose I’m the dark shadow, for father calls +me a spirit of darkness, and yet, perhaps, if he had been more gentle with +me, I might have been better; but now it’s too late." And the letter was +placed in the rosewood box by the side of its companions. + +Slowly but surely the painful conviction fixed itself upon Fanny’s mind +that Dr. Lacey was false. It was dreadful to think so, but there seemed no +other alternative, and Fanny’s heart grew sadder, and her step less joyous +and elastic, while her merry laugh was now seldom heard ringing out in its +clear, silvery tones, making the servants stop their work to listen and +exclaim, "How lonesome t’would be without Miss Fanny; she’s the life of +the house, Lor’ bless her." + +The change was noticed and spoken of by the inmates of Mrs. Crane’s +dwelling. Mr. Miller attributed it to a too close application to books, +and recommended her to relax somewhat in her studies. Fanny had too much +of woman’s pride to allow anyone except Julia to know the real cause of +her sadness, and was glad to have her languor ascribed to over-exertion. +On the night when Kate had found her weeping she had involuntarily told +her secret, but she went to Mrs. Miller the next morning and won from her +a promise not to mention what she had revealed, even to her husband. + +Mr. Stanton’s presence seemed to divert Fanny’s mind, and the two weeks +following his arrival passed away more pleasantly than she had thought two +weeks could pass, uncheered by a line from Dr. Lacey. At the end of that +time it pleased Julia that Fanny should have a pretended letter from New +Orleans. Several days were spent in preparing it, but at last it was +completed, folded, sealed and directed. Mr. Dunn pronounced the deception +perfect. He stamped it with the Frankfort postmark so slightly that one +would as soon have called it "New Orleans" as anything else. + +Fanny was seated in the parlor in company with Stanton when Julia suddenly +entered the room and said, "Oh, here you are, sister. I’ve looked +everywhere for you. Here is a letter." + +One glance at the superscription assured her that it was from Dr. Lacey. A +bright, beautiful flush suffused Fanny’s face, which became irradiated +with sudden joy. Asking Mr. Stanton to excuse her, she went to her rooms, +so as to be alone when she perused the precious document. After she was +gone, Julia spoke of Dr. Lacey and asked Stanton if he had ever heard from +him. Stanton replied, "While Dr. Lacey was in college he spent a part of +his vacations at my father’s; but I almost always chanced to be absent at +school, and consequently we are not much acquainted. He did write to me a +few times while I was in college, but our correspondence gradually ceased +and I have not heard from him in a long time. I hope he will return to +Frankfort, for I should like to renew our acquaintance." + +This answer gave Julia great relief; she had feared Stanton might write to +Dr. Lacey, and that by some means her scheme might be ruined. But all was +safe, and in a few moments she arose to go to her room and witness the +result of the letter. Let us go before her and see the result for +ourselves. + +On reaching her apartment, Fanny sat down on the sofa, while a tremulous +nervousness shook her frame. She dreaded to open the letter, for a strange +forboding of evil came over her. At last the seal was broken and Fanny’s +heart stood still, and a dizziness crept over her as she read. For the +reader’s benefit we will look over her shoulder and read with her the +following: + + + +"MY ONCE DEAR AND STILL MUCH ADMIRED FANNY: I hardly know how to write +what I wish to tell you. If I knew exactly your opinion concerning me, I +might feel differently. As it is I ardently hope that your extreme youth +prevented my foolish, but then sincere, attentions from making any very +lasting impression on you. But why not come to the point at once. Fanny, +you must try and forget that you ever knew one so wholly unworthy of you +as I am. It gives me great pain to write it, but I am about to engage +myself to another. + +"Do not condemn me unheard. There is a young lady in this city, who is +beautiful, wealthy and accomplished. Between her father’s family and mine +there has long existed an intimacy which our fathers seem anxious to +strengthen by a union between myself and the young lady I have mentioned. +For a time I resisted manfully. For, ever between me and the tempting bait +came the image of a pale, bright-haired girl, whose blue eyes looked +mournfully into mine and whispered, ’Do not leave me.’ But at last I +yielded, and now, Fanny, will you forgive me? It cost me more anguish to +give you up than I hope you will ever feel. Be happy, Fanny, and some time +when I am traveling through Kentucky, let me find you the cheerful, +contented wife of some one more suitable for you than I am. With kind +wishes for your happiness, I remain, + + "Your true friend, + + "GEORGE LACEY." + +"P.S.—It is just possible that the young lady and myself may not become +engaged, but if we do not, after what has passed, it will be best for you +and me to try to forget each other. Give my compliments to your sister +Julia. By the way, do you know that I always admired her very much? What a +sensation she would make in the fashionable world of New Orleans. But +pshaw! What nonsense I’m writing." + + + +Alas for Fanny! She did not need to read the letter twice, for every +syllable had burned into her soul, and she could have repeated each word +of the cruel message. This, then, was the end of her bright dream of +bliss! She did not weep, for she could not. The fountain of her tears +seemed dried up. A heavy weight had suddenly fallen on all her faculties. +The objects in the room chased each other in rapid circles, while Dr. +Lacey stood in the distance mocking her anguish. A faint feeling gathered +round her heart. She uttered a low cry and fell heavily forward. + +When Julia entered the room she found her sister extended on the floor, +cold and white as a piece of marble, while the blood was gushing from her +nostrils and moistening the curls of her long hair. Julia’s first feeling +was one of intense horror, or fear her sister might be dead, but a touch +assured her that Fanny had only fainted. So she lifted her up, and bearing +her to the window applied the usual restoratives. As Julia looked on the +death-like face of her young sister she murmured, "Had I thought she loved +him so well, never would I have done so wickedly." + +But she made no promise to repair the mischief, and stifled all the better +impulses of her nature by saying, "It is too late now: it is too late." + +At last Fanny opened her eyes. Her first thought was for her letter, which +was still tightly clenched in her hand. Passing it to Julia she said, +faintly, "Read it, sister." + +Julia took it, and pretending to read it, burst into a violent passion, +abusing Dr. Lacey for his meanness, and ending by telling Fanny that she +ought to consider herself fortunate in escaping from such a man. Fanny +seemed disturbed to hear evil spoken of Dr. Lacey, so Julia changed her +manner, and said, "I do not wonder you feel badly, Fanny. You and I can +sympathize together now." + +Fanny looked at her sister in some surprise, but at last answered, "Oh no, +you cannot know how I feel. Mr. Wilmot loved you to the last. Dr. Lacey is +not dead, but—" + +Here Julia interrupted her by saying, "I do not mean to refer to Mr. +Wilmot. I was flattered by his attentions, but I never knew what it was to +love until I saw Dr. Lacey." + +"Dr. Lacey!—You love Dr. Lacey!" said Fanny, and again she fell back cold +and motionless. A second time Julia restored her to consciousness, but for +an hour she did not speak or scarcely move. At the end of that time, +calling her sister to her, in a low, subdued tone, she said, "Tell me all, +Julia. I can bear it. I am calm now." + +The traitress kissed her cheek, and taking one of the little hands in +hers, told her how truly she had loved Dr. Lacey, and how she had +struggled against it when she saw that he loved another. "I have," said +she, "lain awake many a night, and while you slept sweetly, dreaming, +perhaps, of your lover, I have wept bitter tears because I must go alone +through the cold world, unloved and uncared for. And forgive me, Fanny, +but sometimes I have felt angered at you, because you seemed to steal +everybody’s love from me. Our old father never speaks to me with the same +affection which marks his manner when addressing you." + +"I know it, I know it," said Fanny. "I wish he would not do so, but Dr. +Lacey—Dr. Lacey—I never thought you wanted him to love you; if I had—" + +"What would you have done?" asked Julia, with noticeable eagerness. + +The voice was mournfully low which replied, "I would have given him up for +you. I could not have married one whom my sister loved." And then she +suddenly added, "It seems doubtful whether he marries that young lady. If +anything should happen to prevent it, he may yet make you his wife." + +"And you, what would you do?" asked Julia. + +"Oh, it is impossible for me to marry him now," said Fanny. "But if you +were happy with him, I would try to be happy, too." + +"God bless you, sweet sister," said Julia; "but it will never be." + +Fanny did not reply, and after a moment’s silence Julia said, "Sister, if +I were you I would keep all this a secret, and even if I were unhappy, I +would try to assume a forced cheerfulness, for fear people would suspect +the truth, and call me lovesick." + +Fanny did not reply to this either. She was trying to still the painful +throbs of her aching heart. Through all the long, weary hours of that +night she was awake. Sometimes she would watch the myriad host of stars, +as they kept on their unwearied course through the clear, blue sky, and +would wonder if there was room beyond them for one so unhappy as she was, +and would muse on the past days of happiness now forever gone, and +although a choking sensation was in her throat, not a tear moistened her +cheek. "I shall never weep again," thought she, "and why should I? The +world will not know what I suffer. I will be as gay and merry as ever." +And a fearful laugh rang through the room as she said, "Yes, how gayly +I’ll dance at the wedding. I’ll hold my heart so fast that none shall ever +know in how many pieces it is broken." + +Thus she talked on. Delirium was stealing over her, and when morning +broke, the rapid moving of her bright eye, and the crimson spot which +burned on either cheek, showed that brain fever was doing its work. + +A physician was immediately called and by the means of powerful remedies +the progress of the disease was checked, so that Fanny was seriously ill +for only a week. She was delirious a great part of the time, but Julia was +delighted to find out that not one word of Dr. Lacey ever passed her lips. +At the commencement of her illness her father and mother were sent for. +The old man came quickly, for Fanny was his idol, and if she should die, +he would be bereaved indeed. With untiring love he watched by her bedside +until the crisis was passed. He would fan her fevered brow, moisten her +parched lips, chafe her hot, burning hands, smooth her tumbled pillow, and +when at last he succeeded in soothing her into a troubled slumber, he +would sit by her and gaze on her wan face with an earnestness which seemed +to say that she was his all of earth, his more than all of heaven. Julia +too was all attention. Nothing tired her, and with unwearied patience she +came and went at her father’s bidding, doing a thousand little offices +pertaining to a sick chamber. For once her father’s manner softened toward +her and the tones of his voice were gentle and his words kind while +speaking to his first born. Could he have known what part she had in +causing the illness of his "darling Sunshine," all Frankfort would have +shaken with the heavy artillery of oaths and execrations, which would have +been disgorged from his huge lungs, like the eruption of some long pent-up +volcano! But he did not suspect the truth, and in speaking of Fanny’s +illness, he said, "It is studyin’ so close that ailed her. As soon as ever +she can bar to be moved, we will carry her home, and Aunt Katy’ll nuss her +up quicker." + +Accordingly, as soon as the physician pronounced it safe to move her, she +was taken home, and by her mother’s assiduous care, and Aunt Katy’s +skilful nursing, her physical health was soon much improved. But no +medicine could reach the plague spot which preyed upon her heart and cast +a dark shadow over every feeling of pleasure. As soon as her health was +fully restored, she asked permission to return to school. At first Mr. +Middleton refused, but not long did he ever withstand any request which +"Sunshine" made. So at last he consented, on condition that she would give +up the study of Latin, and promise not to apply herself too closely to +anything. To this Fanny readily agreed, and in a few days she was in +Frankfort, occupying her accustomed seat at Mrs. Crane’s and bending over +her task in the old schoolroom, which seemed suddenly illuminated by her +presence. + +The schoolgirls welcomed back their young companion with many +demonstrations of joy, for they said, "the schoolroom seemed dark and +lonely when she was absent." Dear little Fanny! There was love enough left +for her in the hearts of all who knew her, but it did not satisfy. There +was still an aching void, which one love alone could fill, and that love +she thought was lost to her forever. She was mistaken. + +During her illness she thought much of what Julia had said relative to +concealing her disappointment with an assumed gayety, and she resolved to +do so, partly from wounded pride, and partly from love of her dear old +father, who seemed distressed whenever anything troubled his "Sunshine." +When she returned to Frankfort none but the most acute observer would have +suspected that the sparkling eye and dancing footstep were the disguise of +a desolate, aching heart and that the merry laugh and witty repartee were +but the echoes of a knell of sadness, whose deepest tones were stifled ere +they reached the ear of the listener. In the darkness of night however, +all was changed. The Sunshine was obscured, and Julia alone knew what +anguish Fanny endured. Still the cruel girl never wavered in her purpose. +"The worst is over," said she. "She will not die now, even if she saw him +wedded to me." So she suffered her sister’s cheek to grow paler, and her +delicate form thinner, at the supposed desertion of her lover. Little did +Fanny think that he, whose false-heartedness she deplored, dreamed each +night of his distant dear one, and that each day his warm heart beat more +quickly, because no tidings came from her. + +A few days after Fanny’s return there came cards of invitation for a large +party at the residence of a Mr. C——. The evening was propitious, and at +the usual hour Mrs. C——’s parlors were filled with the beauty and fashion +of the city. Among all the belles who that evening graced the brilliantly +lighted drawing rooms, none was so much admired as Julia Middleton, who +appeared dressed in a rich crimson velvet robe, tastefully trimmed with +ermine. Magnificent bracelets, which had cost her father almost as many +oaths as dollars, glittered on her white, rounded arms. Her snowy neck, +which was also uncovered, was without ornament. Her glossy hair, dark as +night, was arranged in the most becoming manner. + +At the time Mr. Middleton had given Julia her bracelets, he had presented +Fanny with a bandeau of pearls. But Julia found it an easy task to +persuade her sister that pearls were not becoming to her style of beauty; +so on the evening of the party they gleamed amid the heavy braids of +Julia’s hair. Wherever she went she was followed by a train of admirers, +who had little thought that that soft smile and beautiful face concealed a +heart as hard as the flinty rock. + +Contrary to all the rules of propriety, the heartless Mrs. Carrington was +there, dealing out her fascinating smiles and bland words. She had thrown +aside her mourning for the occasion and was arrayed in a dress of black +velvet. An elegant lace bertha covered her white, beautiful neck, while +one of her fair arms was clasped by a diamond bracelet. To this bracelet +was attached a small locket which contained the daguerreotype of him, upon +whose quiet grave the suns of scarce five months had risen and set. Amid +that brilliant scene she had no thought for the dead, but others wondered +much that he should be so soon forgotten. She was attended by Raymond, who +scarcely left her side during the whole evening, although she made several +ineffectual attempts to shake him off, for she did not care to be too much +noticed by a "poor Yankee schoolmaster." + +Henry Ashton was also there, but his attention was wholly engrossed in the +bright eyes and sunny face of Florence Woodburn, who had recently returned +from Philadelphia, where she had been attending for the last two years. +Florence was the only daughter of the Mr. Woodburn, who was mentioned in +the first chapter of this narrative. Her father lived several miles from +the city, but she had friends in town and spent much of her time there. +She was very handsome and very agreeable, and as she would probably be +quite an heiress, her appearance in the fashionable world created a great +sensation. + +During the evening, as she was standing by Ashton and commenting on +Julia’s wondrous beauty, she said, "Where is the younger Miss Middleton? +Is she as handsome as her sister?" + +Ashton replied, "She is not called half as beautiful, but she is much more +amiable; but see there she comes," continued he, as Fanny entered the room +leaning on Stanton’s arm. + +She was so pale that her skin seemed almost transparent, but the +excitement of the evening brought a bright glow to her cheek which greatly +enhanced her loveliness. She was simply attired in a plain white muslin, +low at the neck, which was veiled by the soft curls of her silken hair. +Her arms were encircled by a plain band of gold, and a white, half-opened +rosebud was fastened to the bosom of her dress. + +As she entered the room many admiring eyes were turned toward her, and +Miss Woodburn exclaimed, "Oh, how lovely she is. Her sister seems more +like the flashing diamond, while Fanny’s beauty is like the soft lustre of +the pearl. But tell me," she continued, "is she not engaged to a Dr. Lacey +of New Orleans?" + +"Yes, or, that is, it was so rumored," answered Ashton, "but he has gone +home, and since then I have heard nothing of it. Young Stanton seems very +attentive. I should not wonder if something grows out of it." + +"Always making matches, Mr. Ashton," said Mrs. Carrington, who for a +moment rid herself of Raymond and now came near Ashton and Florence. She +had heard them speak of Dr. Lacey and Fanny, and as she knew Florence was +soon going to New Orleans, she wished to give her a little Frankfort +gossip to take with her. + +"Oh, Mrs. Carrington," said Mr. Ashton, bowing politely, "allow me to +introduce Miss Woodburn. We were just talking of the probability of Miss +Fanny’s being engaged to Dr. Lacey. Perhaps you can enlighten us." + +"Oh," said Mrs. Carrington, "I assure you I know but little about the +matter. It is rather uncertain whom Miss Fanny likes or dislikes. It is +currently reported that she was in love with a Mr. Wilmot, who died, and +who was known to be engaged to her sister. Since then Dr. Lacey has +flirted with her, whether seriously or not I cannot tell; I should rather +think not, however, for Mr. Stanton now seems to be the favored one." + +"Oh," said Mr. Ashton, "I never supposed Fanny was so much of a coquette." + +"Neither do I think she is," said Florence, whose heart warmed toward +Fanny as soon as she saw her. + +"Perhaps she is not," said Mrs. Carrington. "Fanny is very young yet, but +when fully matured will perhaps make a noble woman, but she has not the +solidity of her sister, who tries hard to keep her from assuming the +appearance of a flirt." Then turning to Florence, she said, "I believe you +are soon going to New Orleans?" + +"Yes, madam," answered Florence. + +"You will probably meet Dr. Lacey there," continued Mrs. Carrington. +"Perhaps you had better say nothing to him about Fanny’s flirtation with +Stanton, for he would hardly believe it." + +Florence merely nodded, thinking to herself that she should do as she +chose about it. From the first she had been attracted toward Fanny. There +was something in her face, and in the expression of her eye, which +interested Florence. It seemed to her that Fanny would gladly have left +the scene of gayety, and going out by herself, would have poured out all +her soul in tears. She earnestly desired an introduction, and at last it +was obtained. There must have been some secret magnet which attracted +these young girls toward each other, for in a few moments they were arm in +arm, talking familiarly upon different topics as though they had been +acquainted a lifetime. + +Florence was a warm-hearted, affectionate girl, and after a time she said, +"Miss Middleton, I am going to New Orleans soon. I believe you have an +acquaintance there. If I see him what shall I tell him?" + +Fanny’s voice trembled slightly as she answered, "Tell whom?" + +"Oh, Miss Middleton," said Florence, laughing gayly, "how that blush +becomes you! Tell whom? Why, whom should it be but Dr. Lacey, who +everybody, except Mrs. Carrington, says is engaged to you." + +The fire shot in to Fanny’s eyes, but one look at the open face at her +side assured her, and she answered, "I am not answerable for what the +world pleases to say of me." + +"I am to consider the report true, then," persisted Florence. + +A momentary struggle took place in Fanny’s mind. Love and resentment +strove for the mastery. The latter conquered, and the voice was calm and +decided which replied, "I assure you, Miss Woodburn, that Dr. Lacey bears +no relation to me except that of a common acquaintance." + +"Indeed," said Florence. "I am sorry, for I was anticipating much pleasure +in describing Dr. Lacey’s intended lady to the New Orleans girls." + +Fanny did not answer, and as Stanton just then approached, and asked her +to go to the music room, she took his arm readily, glad to escape so +painful a conversation. + +"She is a strange girl," thought Florence, "and yet I know I should love +her. I wonder what makes her so sad. Can it be that she really loved that +Mr. Wilmot? At any rate, I am sorry for her and hope she will marry Mr. +Stanton, who seems much pleased with her." + +This was the impression left on Florence’s mind, which was productive of +much mischief. At a late hour the company dispersed. Fanny returned home, +weary and sick at heart. Her conversation with Florence had awakened +painful reminiscences of the past, and the gray daylight was beginning to +streak the eastern horizon ere her heavy lids closed in slumber. In a few +days Florence Woodburn departed for New Orleans, where her mother’s +brother resided. We will take passage with her and pay a visit to Dr. +Lacey in his Southern home. + + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + + A GLANCE AT NEW ORLEANS SOCIETY + + +The house which Dr. Lacey occupied was situated on one of the pleasantest +streets of New Orleans. It was a large, airy structure, which had formerly +been owned by a wealthy French gentleman who had spared neither money nor +pains to adorn it with every elegance which could minister to the +luxurious habits common to a Southern clime. When it passed into the hands +of Dr. Lacey’s father, he gratified his Northern taste, and fitted it up +with every possible convenience, molding its somewhat ancient aspect into +a more modern style. + +When Dr. Lacey reached the age of twenty-one, his father made him the +owner of the house, he himself removing to another part of the city. At +the time of which we are speaking, nothing could exceed the beauty of the +house and grounds. + +The yard which surrounded the building was large, and laid out with all +the taste of a perfect connoisseur. In its center was a fountain, whose +limpid waters fell into a large marble basin, while the spray which +constantly arose from the falling stream seemed to render the heat of that +sultry climate less oppressive. Scattered throughout the yard were the +numerous trees and flowering shrubs which grow in profusion at the "sunny +South." Here the beautiful magnolia shook its white blossoms in the +evening breeze, and there the dark green foliage of the orange trees +formed an effectual screen from the mid-day sun. + +The building was surrounded on all sides by a double piazza, the slender +pillars of which were entwined by the flowering honeysuckle and luxuriant +passion-flower, which gave the house the appearance of a closely wreathed +arbor. Within the piazza was filled with rare tropical plants. The +beautiful oleander, magnificent rose and sweet-scented geranium, here +united their fragrance, while the scarlet verbenum and brilliant +heliotrope added beauty to the scene. + +The interior of the building corresponded with the exterior. The rooms, +large and airy, were carpeted with velvet, and adorned with costly marble +and rosewood furniture. The windows, which were constructed in the French +style, that is, reaching to the floor, were curtained with +richly-embroidered lace. Let us ascend the winding staircase, and enter +the dressing room of the owner of all this splendor. + +Half reclining on a crimson lounge sits Dr. Lacey, dressed in a +fashionable brocade morning gown. On first glancing at him we think there +is no change in his countenance since we last saw him on Mrs. Crane’s +steps in Frankfort, but as we note the expression of his face we can +perceive a shade of anxiety resting there. At last he rises and rather +impatiently pulls the bell rope. + +His summons is immediately answered by an exquisite dandy, who is neither +African, European, French, nor Spanish, but an odd mixture of the four. He +is dressed in the extreme of fashion, and on entering the room bows most +gracefully, at the same time casting an admiring glance at himself in the +large mirror, and passing his hand carelessly through his perfumed locks. +With the utmost deference, he awaits the commands of his master. + +"Well, Rondeau," said Dr. Lacey, "haven’t you finished breakfast yet?" + +"Yes, marster," answered Rondeau, with a very low bow. "I’ve got through a +moment since. What can I do for you. Will you ride this morning?" + +"No," answered Dr. Lacey, "I do not wish to ride, but I want you to go to +the post office and back immediately; remember now, and not stop to +gossip." + +"Certainly not," said the negro. "When marster’s in a hurry, Rondeau is +never foolin’ away time." + +"And don’t stop more than an hour in the kitchen to talk to Leffie. Do you +understand?" continued the doctor. + +"Oh, yes, I won’t," said Rondeau, extending his mouth into a broad grin at +his master’s allusion to Leffie, a bright-looking, handsome, mulatto girl, +whom next to himself, Rondeau thought was the prettiest creature in the +world. + +At last he bowed himself out of the room, and proceeded to execute his +master’s commands. On passing the kitchen, he "just looked in a little," +and the sight of Leffie’s bright eyes and rosy lips made him forgetful of +his promise. Going up to her, he announced his intention of kissing her. A +violent squabble ensued, in which the large china dish which Leffie held +in her hand was broken, two pickle jars thrown down, chairs upset, the +baby scalded, and the dog Tasso’s tail nearly crushed! At last Aunt +Dilsey, the head cook and mother of Leffie, interposed, and seizing the +soup ladle as the first thing near her, she laid about her right and left, +dealing no very gentle blows at the well-oiled hair of Rondeau, who was +glad to beat a retreat from the kitchen, amid the loud laughter of the +blacks who had witnessed the scene. + +Leaving the house he was soon on his way to the post office, and having +procured his master’s mail he started for home. At length, slackening his +pace, he took from his pocket the letters and carefully scrutinized the +inscription of each. He was in the habit of going to the post office, and +after his master’s return from Kentucky, he had noticed two or three +letters written in what he called "a mighty fineified hand," and he had +whispered to Leffie as a great secret that "’twere his private opinion +marster was going to marry some Kentucky girl." Recently he had noticed +the absence of those letters, and also the absence of his master’s +accustomed cheerfulness. Rondeau was pretty keen, and putting the two +circumstances together, he again had a whispered conference with Leffie, +whom he told that "most probably the Kentucky girl had flunked, for +marster hadn’t had a letter in ever so long, and every time he didn’t get +one he looked as blue as a whetstone!" + +"Glad on’t," said Leffie. "Hope he won’t have any your foreigners. Allus +did wish he’d have Miss Mortimer. Next to old marster and young marster +Lacey, her father’s the toppinest man in New Orleans. And it’s a pity for +young marster to stoop." + +After examining all the letters closely, Rondeau came to the conclusion +that the right one wasn’t there, and he thought, "Well, Leffie’ll be glad, +and marster’ll be sorry, and hang me if I ain’t sorry too, for marster’s a +plaguey fine chap, and desarves anybody there is in Kentucky." + +Meanwhile Dr. Lacey was anxiously awaiting Rondeau’s return, and when he +caught sight of him, coming at an unusually rapid pace toward the house, +he thought, "Surely Rondeau would never hurry so if he had not good news +for me," but the next thought was, "How should he know what it is I am so +anxious to get?" Still he waited rather impatiently for Rondeau to make +his appearance. In a moment he entered the room, and commenced pulling the +letters from his pocket, saying, "I’ve got a heap this time, marster." + +He then laid them one by one on the marble dressing table, counting them +as he did so; "Thar’s one, thar’s two, thar’s three, thar’s four." + +"Stop counting them, can’t you, and give me all you have directly," said +Dr. Lacey, as his eye ran hurriedly over the superscription of each, and +found not the one he sought. + +"That’s jist what I’ve done, marster," said Rondeau, bowing. "The one you +want wasn’t thar." + +Dr. Lacey glanced hastily at his servant, and felt assured that the +quick-witted negro was in possession of his secret. "You may go," said he, +"and mind, never let me hear of your commenting about my letters." + +"No, marster, never; ’strue’s I live," said Rondeau, who left the room and +went in quest of Leffie. But he did not dare to repeat the scene of the +morning, for Aunt Dilsey was present, bending over a large tub of boiling +suds, and he felt sure that any misdemeanor on his part would call forth a +more affectionate shower bath than he cared about receiving. So he +concluded to bring about his purpose by complimenting Aunt Dilsey on her +fine figure (she weighed just two hundred!). + +"Aunt Dilsey," said he, "’pears to me you have an uncommon good form, for +one as plump and healthy-like as you are." + +Aunt Dilsey was quite sensitive whenever her size was alluded to, and she +replied rather sharply: "You git along, you bar’s ile skullcap. ’Twon’t be +healthy for you to poke fun at me." + +"’Pon my word," said the mischievous Rondeau, "I ain’t poking fun at you. +I do really think so. I thought of it last Sunday, when you had on that +new gown, that becomes you so well." + +"Which one?" said Aunt Dilsey, a little mollified, "the blue and yaller +one?" + +"The same," answered Rondeau. "It fits you good. Your arm looks real small +in it." + +Leffie was nearly convulsed with laughter, for she had tried the +experiment, and found that the distance round her mother’s arm was just +the distance round her own slender waist. + +"Do tell!" said Aunt Dilsey, stopping from her work and wiping the drops +of perspiration from her shining forehead. "Do tell! It feels drefful +sleek on me, but my old man Claib says it’s too tight." + +"Not an atom too tight," answered Rondeau, at the same time getting nearer +and nearer to Leffie, and laying his hand on her shoulder. + +Before she was aware of his intention, he stole the kiss he was seeking +for. Leffie rewarded him by spitting in his face, while Aunt Dilsey called +out, "Ain’t you ’shamed to act so, Leffie? Don’t make a fool of yourself!" + +Assured by this speech, Rondeau turned, and kissing Aunt Dilsey herself, +was off just in time to escape a basin of hot suds which that +highly-scandalized lady hurled after him. + +"I’ll tell marster this minute," said she, "and see if he hain’t got +nothin’ to set the lazy lout a-doin’." So saying, the old lady waddled +into the house, and going upstairs, knocked at Dr. Lacey’s door. + +"Come in," said the doctor, and Aunt Dilsey entered. In a very sad tone, +she commenced telling how "that ’tarnal Rondeau was raising Cain in the +kitchen. He’s kissed Leffie, and me too!" + +"Kissed you, has he?" said Dr. Lacey. + +"Yes, sar, he done that ar very thing, spang on the mouth," said Dilsey. + +"Well, Dilsey," said the doctor with a roguish twinkle of the eye, "don’t +you think he ought to be paid?" + +Aunt Dilsey began to cry, and said, "I never thought that marster would +laugh at old Aunt Dilsey." + +"Neither will I," said the doctor. Then tossing her a picayune, he said, +"take that, Aunt Dilsey. I reckon it will pay for the kiss. I’ll see that +Rondeau does not repeat his offense, on you at least." + +Aunt Dilsey went back to the kitchen, thinking that "Marster George was +the funniest and best marster on earth." + +While Rondeau was carrying on his flirtation in the kitchen, Dr. Lacey was +differently employed. Hope deferred had well nigh made his heart sick. +"What can be the reason," thought he, "that Fanny does not write? I have +written repeatedly for the last two months and have had no answer." Then +as a new idea struck him, he added, "Yes, I’ll write to Mr. Miller, and +ask him what has happened." Suiting the action to the word, he drew up his +writing desk, and in a short time a letter was written and directed to Mr. +Miller. + +He arose to summon Rondeau to take it to the office; but ere he had +touched the bell rope, pride whispered, "Don’t send that letter; don’t let +Mr. Miller into your private affairs. If Fanny were sick, some one would +write to you." + +So the bell was not rung, and during the next half-hour Dr. Lacey amused +himself by mechanically tearing it into small fragments. Ah, Dr. Lacey, +’twas a sorry moment when you listened to the whispering of that pride! +Had that letter been sent, it would have saved you many sleepless nights +of sorrow. But it was not to be. + +That night there was to be a large party at the house of Mr. Mortimer, +whom Leffie had mentioned as second to the Laceys in wealth. Mr. Mortimer +was the uncle at whose house Florence Woodburn was visiting, and the party +was given in honor of her arrival, and partly to celebrate Mabel +Mortimer’s birthday. Mabel was an intelligent, accomplished girl, and +besides being something of a beauty, was the heiress expectant of several +hundred thousand. This constituted her quite a belle, and for three or +four years past she and Dr. Lacey had been given to each other by the +clever gossips of New Orleans. Mr. Lacey senior was also rather anxious +that his son should marry Mabel; so Julia was not far out of the way when +she wrote to Fanny that Dr. Lacey’s parents wished to secure a match +between him and a New Orleans belle. Had Dr. Lacey never seen Fanny, he +possibly might have wedded Mabel. But his was a heart which could love but +once, and although the object of his love should prove untrue, his +affections could not easily be transferred to another; so that it was all +in vain that Mabel Mortimer, on the evening of the party, stood before her +mirror arranging and rearranging the long curls of her dark hair and the +folds of her rich white satin, wondering all the while if Dr. Lacey would +approve her style of dress. + +Turning to Florence, she said, "Cousin, did you see Dr. Lacey while he was +in Frankfort?" + +"No; I did not," answered Florence; "but I do hope he will be here +tonight, for I am all impatient to see this lion who has turned all your +heads." + +A slight shade of displeasure passed over Mabel’s fine features, but +quickly casting it off she said, "Why are you so anxious, Florence? Have +you any designs on him? If you have, they will do you no good, for I have +a prior claim, and you must not interfere." + +"Dear me, how charmingly you look!" said Florence. "But, fair coz, do not +be too sanguine. Suppose I should tell you that far off in old Kentuck, as +the negroes say, there is a golden-haired little girl, who has—" + +"Stop, stop," said Mabel. "You shall not tell me. I will not hear it." + +At that instant the doorbell rang, and in a moment several young girls +entered the dressing room, and in the chattering and laughing and fixing +which followed, Mabel forgot what her cousin had been saying. After a time +the young ladies descended to the spacious drawing rooms, which were +rapidly filling with the elite of the city. + +Mabel’s eye took in at a glance all the gentlemen, and she felt chagrined +to find Dr. Lacey absent. "What if he should not come?" thought she. "The +party would be a dreadfully dull affair to me." Some time after, she +missed Florence and two or three other girls, and thinking they were in +the parlor above, she went in search of them. She found them on the +balcony not far from the gentlemen’s dressing room, the windows of which +were open. As she approached them, they called out, "Oh, here you are, +Mabel! Florence is just going to tell us about Dr. Lacey’s sweetheart." + +"Dr. Lacey’s sweetheart!" repeated Mabel. "Who is Dr. Lacey’s sweetheart, +pray?" + +"Do not blush so, Mabel; we do not mean you," said Lida Gibson, a +bright-eyed, witty girl, with a sprinkling of malice in her nature. + +"Of course you do not mean me," said Mabel, laughingly. "But come, cousin; +what of her?" And the young girls drew nearer to each other, and waited +anxiously for Florence’s story. + +Little did they suspect that another individual, with flushed brow, +compressed lip and beating heart was listening to hear tidings of her whom +Florence had designated as his sweetheart. Dr. Lacey had entered the +gentlemen’s dressing room unobserved. He heard the sound of merry voices +on the balcony, and was about to step out and surprise the girls when he +caught the sound of his own name coupled with that of Fanny Middleton. His +curiosity was aroused and he became a listener to the following +conversation: + +"Come, Florence," said Lida, "do not keep us in suspense any longer. Tell +us whether she is black or white, fat or lean, rich or poor." + +"But first," said Mabel, "tell us how you know she is anything to Dr. +Lacey." + +"That is what I don’t know," said Florence. "I am only speaking of what +has been." + +"Well, then," said Mabel, more gayly, "go on," + +"This Fanny Middleton," said Florence, "looks just as you would imagine a +bright angel to look." + +How Dr. Lacey blessed her for these words. + +"But," continued Florence, "there is a singularly sad expression on her +marble face." + +"I never observed it," thought Dr. Lacey. + +"What makes her sad?" asked Lida. + +"That is a mystery to me," answered Florence. "Report says that she loved +a Mr. Wilmot, who was engaged to her sister." + +"Engaged to her sister!" repeated Mabel. "How strange! But won’t it make +trouble?" + +"It cannot," said Florence. "Mr. Wilmot is dead, and it is whispered that +Fanny’s heart was buried with him. I should not be surprised if it were +so, for Fanny has the saddest face I ever saw. It made me want to cry when +I looked at her. I should have pitied her more, however, had she not been +so well cared for by a Mr. Stanton, of New York." + +Large drops of perspiration stood thickly on Dr. Lacey’s forehead, and his +hands, convulsively clasped, were pressed against his heart; still he did +not lose a syllable as Florence continued, "I did not blame her for liking +Stanton, for he would break half your hearts and turn the rest of you +crazy." + +"But the sister," asked all the young ladies, "how was she affected to +think Fanny loved her betrothed?" + +"Oh, that sister!" said Florence. "You ought to see her! She is beautiful +beyond anything I can describe. She eclipsed everything and everybody." + +"And she is as agreeable as handsome?" asked Mabel, whose fears were +aroused that Julia might be the rival, instead of Fanny. + +Florence replied, "I was told that she was formerly very passionate, so +much so that her father nicknamed her Tempest. Within a few months she has +entirely changed, and is now very amiable; but I like Fanny’s looks the +best." + +"But Dr. Lacey—what had he to do with Fanny?" asked Lida. + +"It was said they were engaged; but I do not think they are. In fact, I +know they are not, from what Fanny said herself; for she assured me that +Dr. Lacey was nothing to her more than a common acquaintance; and the sad +but sweet smile which broke over her face whenever she raised, her soft +blue eyes to Stanton’s animated countenance confirmed what she said." + +"So, Mabel, you can have the doctor after all," said Lida. "You know you +used to say that it was all settled, for your parents and his had arranged +it." + +Dr. Lacey waited for no more. He knew of a back stairway down which he +could escape into the open air unobserved. In a moment he stood alone in +Mr. Mortimer’s garden, but the evening breeze, although it cooled his +brow, failed to calm his excited feelings. Suddenly it occurred to him +that his absence from Mr. Mortimer’s would excite attention in those who +saw him enter, so he made a desperate effort to be calm, and retracing his +steps, was soon in the drawing room with Mabel Mortimer on his arm, much +to that young lady’s satisfaction. + +As they passed near a group of girls, in the center of which stood +Florence Woodburn, Mabel suddenly said, "Oh, Dr. Lacey, let me introduce +you to cousin Florence. She has just come from Frankfort and knows some of +your acquaintances there." + +So saying, she drew him toward Florence, who had all the evening been +waiting for an introduction to him. Dr. Lacey rather wished to avoid +making Florence’s acquaintance, fearing that she might say something to +him of Fanny. But there was no escape, and he greeted Florence with a +smile and a bow, which, to use her own words, "nearly drove every idea +from her head." + +Once during the evening he found himself standing with Florence, alone, +near an open window. Florence improved her opportunity, and raising her +bewitching hazel eyes to the doctor’s face, said, "Why do you not ask me +about your Kentucky friends, Dr. Lacey?" + +Had Florence observed her companion closely, she would have noticed the +pallor which for an instant overspread his face. It passed away, and he +replied with an assumed gayety, "How should I know that we have any +acquaintances in common in Frankfort?" + +Before Florence had time to reply, Mabel joined them. She was unwilling to +risk a tete-a-tete between the doctor and her fascinating cousin, and as +soon as she found them standing alone she went up to them. Her example was +followed by several other young ladies, among whom was Lida Gibson, who +began by saying, "Doctor, do you know that Miss Florence has told us all +about your love affairs, and also described the Golden Fairy? Now, why +didn’t you fall in love with her sister? Florence says she is far more +beautiful." + +Dr. Lacey answered calmly, "What reason has Miss Woodburn to think I am in +love with either." + +"No reason," said Mabel, quickly; "neither does she think you are in love +with her either." + +"Dear me," said Lida. "Of course you do not wish me to think so, and we +all know why; but never mind frowning so dreadfully, Mabel; I won’t tell!" +and the mischievous girl glided away, laughing to think that she had +succeeded so well in teasing Mabel Mortimer. + +After a moment, Dr. Lacey turned to Florence and said "It seems you saw +Julia Middleton. Do you not think her very handsome?" + +"Yes, very," answered Florence; "but I liked Fanny’s looks the best." + +A pang shot through Dr. Lacey’s heart at the mention of Fanny’s name, but +he continued to inquire concerning his friends in Kentucky. Before the +party closed, Florence, Mabel and Lida had each managed to repeat to him +all the conversation which he had overheard in the first part of the +evening, never once thinking how desolate was the heart which beat beneath +the calm manner and gay laugh of him who listened to their thoughtless +raillery. + +At length the party drew to a close. Dr. Lacey was among the first that +left. He longed to be alone with his troubled thoughts. Mechanically +bidding Mabel "Good night," he ran down the marble steps, and stepping +into his carriage, ordered Claib, the coachman, to drive home as soon as +possible. There was no particular necessity for this command, for Claib +had been fretting for the last hour about "White folks settin’ up all +night and keepin’ niggers awake. Darned if he didn’t run the horses home +like Satan, and sleep over next day, too." + +With such a driver the horses sped swiftly over the smooth road and in a +very few minutes Dr. Lacey was at home, alone in his room. Then the full +tide of his sorrow burst forth. He did not weep. He would scorn to do +that. But could one have seen him as he hurriedly paced the apartment, he +would have said, his was a sorrow which could not vent itself in tears. +Occasionally he would whisper to himself, "My Fanny false!—she whom I +believed so truthful, so loving, so innocent! And she loves another—one, +too, whom it were almost a sin to love. Fool, that I did not see it +before, for what but love could have drawn such devotion to him on his +deathbed? And yet she assured me that I was the first, the only one, she +had ever loved; and I believed it, and gave her the entire affection of my +heart." + +Then came a reaction. Resentment toward Fanny for thus deceiving him +mingling with his grief. But he had loved her too deeply, too truly, to +cherish an unkind feeling toward her long. Throwing himself upon the sofa, +and burying his face in his hands, he went back in fancy through all the +many happy hours he had spent in her society. While doing this sleep +descended upon him and in his dreams he saw again his darling Fanny, not +false and faithless as he had feared, but arrayed in a spotless bridal +robe. She stood by his side as his own wedded wife. Was that dream ever +realized? We shall see. + + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + + THE LETTER THAT WAS NOT DELIVERED + + +The next morning, Rondeau waited for a long time for his master’s usual +orders that he should go to the post office, but no such commands came, +and as Dr. Lacey had not been heard moving in his room yet, Rondeau +concluded to go at all events. + +"I know," said he, "that’ll be the first thing he’ll tell me to do, and I +may as well go on my own hook, as to wait and be sent." + +Accordingly he again started for the post office, thinking to himself, "I +hope that marster’ll get a letter this time, for he don’t seem no more +like the wide-awake chap he did when he first come from Kentuck, than +nothin’. I don’t want him to have Miss Mabel nohow; for their niggers say +she’s awful spunky." + +By the time this soliloquy was ended, he had reached the office. The clerk +handed him two letters, both of which Rondeau eyed sharply. On looking at +the second, the cavity between the ears widened to an enormous extent, and +he gave vent to his joy by uttering aloud, "Crackee, this is just the +thing!" + +"What’s the matter, Rondeau? Can you read writing?" asked the clerk in +some surprise. + +"No, sir, not but a little," said Rondeau; "but I know this hand write, I +reckon." + +In a twinkling, he was in the street. "This is a fine morning," thought +he. "I’ve got the right letter this time, so I won’t hurry home, for +marster ain’t goin’ to find any fault if I don’t git thar till noon." + +So the next hour was spent in gossiping with all the blacks which could be +found lounging round the streets. Suddenly one of the negroes called out, +"Ho, Rondeau! Thar’s yer old marster Lace comin’. You’d better cut stick +for home, or he’ll be in yer har." + +Rondeau instantly started for home, where he was greeted by Aunt Dilsey +with a torrent of abuse, that good lady rating him soundly for being gone +too long. "Warn’t he ’shamed to be foolin’ away his time? ’Twan’t his time +nuther, ’twas marster’s time. Was that ar fulfillin’ of Scripter, which +says, ’we must be all eye sarvants,’ which means ye must all keep clus +where yer marsters can see you?" + +How long Aunt Dilsey might have gone expounding Scripture is not known, +for Rondeau interrupted her by saying, "Don’t scold so, old lady. Marster +ain’t a-goin’ to care for I’ve got him something this time better than +victuals or drink." + +"What is it?" said Leffie, coming forward. "Have you got him a letter from +Kentuck?" + +"I hain’t got nothin’ else, Miss Leffie Lacey, if you please," said +Rondeau, snapping his fingers in her face, and giving Aunt Dilsey’s elbow +a slight jostle, just enough to spill the oil, with which she was filling +a lamp. + +"Rondeau, I ’clar’ for’t," said Aunt Dilsey, setting down her oil can. "If +marster don’t crack your head, my old man Claib shall, if he ever gits up +agin. Thar he is in his bunk, snorin’ like he was a steamboat; and +marster’s asleep upstairs, I reckon. Well, ’tain’t no way to live. Things +would go to rack and ruin if I didn’t sweat and work to keep ’em right end +up, sartin." + +Aunt Dilsey was really a very valuable servant, and had some reason for +thinking herself the main spoke in the wheel which kept her master’s +household together. She had lived in the family ever since Dr. Lacey’s +early recollection, and as she had nursed him when an infant, he naturally +felt a great affection for her, and intrusted her with the exclusive +management of the culinary department, little negroes and all. His +confidence in her was not misplaced, for from morning till night she was +faithful to her trust, and woe to any luckless woolly head who was found +wasting "marster’s" sweetmeats and pickles. + +On the first hand Aunt Dilsey was very sensitive, for being naturally +active and stirring herself, "She," to use her own words, "couldn’t bar to +see folks lazin’ round like thar was nothin’ to do, but to git up and +stuff themselves till they’s fit to bust." She also felt annoyed whenever +her young master indulged himself in a morning nap. "Ought to be up," she +said, "and airin’ hisself." + +On the morning following the party, her patience was severely taxed in two +ways. First, Claib, her husband, had adhered to his resolution of sleeping +over, and long after the clock struck eleven he was sleeping profoundly. +He had resisted all Aunt Dilsey’s efforts to rouse him. Her scoldings, +sprinklings with hot and cold water, punching with the carving fork, had +all proved ineffectual, and as a last resort, she put the baby on his bed, +thinking "that would surely fetch him up standin’, for ’twasn’t in natur +to sleep with the baby wollopin’ and mowin’ over him." Her master, too, +troubled her. Why he couldn’t get up she couldn’t see. "His breakfast was +as cold as a grave stun, and she didn’t keer if ’twas. She had enough to +do ’tendin’ to other affairs, without keepin’ the niggers and dogs from +porkin’ thar noses in it." + +At a late hour Dr. Lacey awoke from his uneasy slumber. The return of +morning brought comparative calmness to his troubled spirit. Hope +whispered that what he had heard might be a mistake. At least he would +wait for further confirmation. He did not know how near that confirmation +was. Rondeau had been waiting for his masters summons until his patience +was exhausted. So, relying on the letter to counteract any apparent +disrespect, he stalked upstairs and knocked at Dr. Lacey’s door, just as +that gentleman was about ringing for him. + +As soon as he entered the room, he called out, "Here, master, I’ve got ’em +this time!" at the same time extending a letter, the superscription of +which made Dr. Lacey turn pale, for he recognized, as he supposed, Fanny’s +delicate handwriting. + +"You may leave me alone, Rondeau," said he, "and I will ring for you when +I want you." So Rondeau departed with the remaining letter in his pocket. +He had forgotten to deliver it, but it was not missed. + +Oh, Rondeau, Rondeau! It was very unfortunate that you forgot that letter, +and suffered it to remain in your pocket unheeded for so many days. Its +contents would have scattered the dark, desolating tempest which was fast +gathering over your young master’s pathway. + +As soon as Dr. Lacey was alone, he sat down, anxious, yet fearing to know +the contents of his letter. At last he resolutely broke the seal, thinking +to himself, "It cannot contain anything worse than I already know." One +glance at the beginning and end of the letter confirmed his fears, and for +a few moments he was unable to read a line; then summoning all his +remaining courage, he calmly read the letter through, not omitting a +single word, but comprehending the meaning of each sentence. It was as +follows: + + + + "Frankfort, March 25th, 18—. + +"DR. LACEY: + +"SIR—Have you, during some weeks past, ever wondered why I did not write +to you? And in enumerating to yourself the many reasons which could +prevent my writing, has it ever occurred to you that possibly I might be +false? Can you forgive me, Dr. Lacey, when I tell you that the love I once +fancied I bore for you has wholly subsided, and I now feel for you a +friendship, which I trust will be more lasting than my transient girlish +love? + +"Do you ask how I came to change so suddenly? I can only answer by another +confession still more painful and humiliating to me. When I bade you +adieu, I thought I loved you as well as I ever could again. I say again, +for—but how shall I tell you? How confess that my first affection was not +given to you? Yes, ere I had ever seen you, I loved another, and one, too, +whom some would say it were sinful to love. + +"But why harrow my feelings by awakening the past? Suffice it to say that +he whom I loved is dead. We both saw him die, and I received upon my lips +his last breath. Truly if he were Julia’s in life, he was mine in death. +Did you never suspect how truly I loved Mr. Wilmot? You were blinded by +your misplaced affection for me, if you did not. Julia, my noble-hearted +sister Julia, knew it all. I confessed my love to her, and on my knees +begged her not to go to him, but to let me take her place at his bedside. +She complied with my request, and then bravely bore in silence the +reproaches of the world for her seeming coldness. + +"Dear Julia! She seems strangely changed recently, and you would hardly +know her, she is so gentle, so obliging, so amiable. You ought to have +heard her plead your cause with me. She besought me almost with tears not +to prove unfaithful to you, and when I convinced her that ’twas impossible +for me to love another as I had Mr. Wilmot, she insisted on my writing, +and not keeping you in suspense any longer. + +"Dr. Lacey, if you could transfer your affection from me—, but no, why +should I speak of such a thing! You will probably despise all my family. +Yet do not, I beseech you, cast them off for your poor Fanny’s sin. They +respect you highly, and Julia would be angry if she knew that I am about +to tell you how she admires a certain Southern friend, who probably, by +this time, thinks with contempt of little + + "FANNY MIDDLETON." + + + +There was no perceptible change in Dr. Lacey’s manner after reading the +heartless forgery, but the iron had entered his soul, and for a time he +seemed benumbed with its force. Then came a moment of reflection. His love +had been trampled upon, and thrown back as a thing of naught by her who +had fallen from the high pedestal on which he had enthroned the idol of +his heart’s deepest affection. + +"I could have pitied, and admired her, too," thought he, "had she candidly +confessed her love for Mr. Wilmot; but to be so basely deceived by one +whom I thought incapable of deception is too much." + +Seizing the letter, he again read it through, and this time he felt his +wounded pride somewhat soothed by thinking that the beautiful Julia +admired and sympathized with him. "But pshaw!" he exclaimed, "most likely +Julia is as hollow-hearted as her sister, and yet many dark spots on her +character seem wiped away by Fanny’s confession." Throwing the letter +aside he rang the bell, and ordered his breakfast to be sent up to him. + +That afternoon he called on Mabel Mortimer and her cousin. He found the +young ladies in the drawing room, and with them a dark, fine-looking, +middle-aged gentleman, whom Mabel introduced as Mr. Middleton. Something +in the looks as well as name of the stranger made Dr. Lacey involuntarily +start with surprise, and he secretly wondered whether; this gentleman was +in any way connected with the Middletons of Kentucky. He was not kept long +in doubt, for Florence, who was very talkative, soon said, "We were just +speaking of you, Dr. Lacey, and Mr. Middleton seems inclined to claim you +as an acquaintance, on the ground of your having been intimate with his +brother’s family in Kentucky." + +"Indeed!" said Dr. Lacey; then turning to Mr. Middleton, he said, "Is it +possible that you are a brother of Mr. Joshua Middleton?" + +"Yes, sir," returned the stranger, eyeing Dr. Lacey closely; "Joshua is my +brother, but for more than twenty years I have not seen him, or scarcely +heard from him." + +"Ah," answered Dr. Lacey, in some astonishment, and then, as he fancied +there was something in Mr. Middleton’s former life which he wished to +conceal, he changed the subject by asking Mr. Middleton if he had been +long in the city. + +"Only two weeks," he replied, and he proceeded to speak of himself, +saying, "For many years past I have been in the Indies. About the time my +brother Joshua married, my father died. When his will was opened, I +thought it a very unjust one, for it gave, to my brother a much larger +share than was given to me. In a fit of anger, I declared I would never +touch a penny of my portion, and leaving college, where I was already in +my senior year, I went to New York, and getting on board a vessel bound +for the East Indies, I tried by amassing wealth in a distant land, to +forget that I ever had a home this side of the Atlantic. During the first +years of my absence my brother wrote to me frequently, and most of his +letters I answered, for I really bore him no malice on account of the +will. I had not heard from him for a long time, until I reached this +city." + +"Are you going to visit Kentucky?" asked Dr. Lacey. + +"It is my present intention to do so," answered Mr. Middleton; "but first +I wish to purchase a summer residence near the Lake, and after fitting it +up tastefully, I shall invite my nieces to visit me. You are acquainted +with them, I believe." + +Dr. Lacey answered in the affirmative, and Mr. Middleton continued, "I am +told by Miss Woodburn that they are very beautiful, especially one of +them, and quite accomplished. Is it so?" + +Dr. Lacey replied very calmly, "The world, I believe, unites in calling +Miss Julia beautiful." + +"But what of the other one?" asked Mr. Middleton. "I am prepossessed in +her favor, for she bears the name of the only sister I ever had." + +Dr. Lacey sighed, for he remembered the time when he was drawn toward +Fanny, because he fancied she resembled the only sister he ever had. Mr. +Middleton observed it, and immediately said, "Does it make you sigh just +to mention Fanny? What is the matter? Has she jilted you? If she has, she +does not partake of the nature of the Middletons, for they could never +stoop to deceit." + +Here Florence came to Dr. Lacey’s relief by saying, "Why, Dr. Lacey, Mr. +Middleton wants you to repeat what I have already told him, that Julia is +exceedingly beautiful and that Fanny is as lovely as a Houri, and has the +saddest, sweetest face I ever saw, and the softest, mildest blue eye." + +Dr. Lacey laughingly said, "Thank you, Miss Florence; Mr. Middleton will +please take what you have said as my opinion concerning his fair nieces." + +Mr. Middleton bowed and then said, "How does my brother appear? He used to +be very rough and abrupt in his manner." + +Dr. Lacey laughed. He could not help it. His risible faculties were always +excited when he thought of Joshua Middleton, and he answered, that +although he highly esteemed Mr. Middleton, he feared his manners were not +much improved. + +"I dare say not," said the brother. "When he was at home, he was always +saying things which our mother called ’impolite,’ our father ’outlandish,’ +and the blacks ’right down heathenish.’ However, with all his roughness, I +believe there never was a more truly honorable man, or a more sincere +friend." + +After a few moments of general conversation, Mr. Middleton said, turning +to Dr. Lacey, "I feel some anxiety about this summer residence which I +intend purchasing. I am told that you have fine taste both in selecting a +good locality and in laying out grounds. If you have leisure, suppose you +accompany me on my exploring excursion, and I will reward you by an +invitation to spend as much time with me as you like after my nieces +arrive." + +Dr. Lacey thanked Mr. Middleton for the compliment paid to his taste, and +he politely expressed his willingness to assist his friend in the +selection of a country seat. "By the way," continued he, "you are stopping +at the St. Charles, I believe. Suppose you exchange your rooms at the +hotel for a home with me, and become my guest until you leave the city for +Kentucky?" + +Mr. Middleton accepted Dr. Lacey’s invitation willingly, and the three +weeks which he spent at his residence passed rapidly and pleasantly away. +During that time Dr. Lacey met with a gentleman who owned a very handsome +villa near the lake shore. This he wished to dispose of, and Mr. Middleton +and Dr. Lacey went down to inspect it. They found it every way desirable, +and Mr. Middleton finally purchased it at an enormous price, and called it +the "Indian Nest." "Here," said he, speaking to Dr. Lacey, "here I shall +at last find that happiness which I have sought for in vain during forty +years. I shall have both my nieces with me, besides Miss Mortimer and Miss +Woodburn. I suppose I shall have to invite some other young gentleman +besides yourself, for the girls will hardly fancy the old Indian for a +beau." + +Dr. Lacey did not reply. He was thinking how much pleasure such an +arrangement would have given him a few months ago; but now all was +changed, and the thought of again meeting Fanny afforded him more pain +than pleasure. + +Mr. Middleton noticed his silence, and as he was slightly tinctured with +the abruptness which characterized his brother, he said, "Why, young man, +what is the matter? Have you been disappointed, or what makes you manifest +so much indifference to spending the summer, or a part of it, with four +agreeable girls?" + +Dr. Lacey saw the necessity of rousing himself from his melancholy mood, +and assuming a gayety he did not feel, he said, "I feel very much +flattered, Mr. Middleton, with the honor you confer upon me, but I have +for some time past been subject to low spirits; so you must not mind it if +I am not always gay. Come, let us go into the garden and see what +improvements are needed there." + +So saying, they turned together into the large terraced garden. While they +were engaged in walking over the handsome grounds which surrounded "The +Indian Nest," Rondeau, who had accompanied his master, was differently +occupied. Strolling down to the lake shore, he amused himself for a time +by watching the waves as they dashed against the pebbly beach, and by +fancying that each of them reflected the image of Leffie’s bright, round +face. Then buttoning up his coat he would strut back and forth, admiring +his shadow, and thinking how much more the coat became him than it did his +young master. It had been given to him by Dr. Lacey, with the order "not +to wear it out in two days"; so Rondeau had not worn it before since the +morning when he gave his master one letter and forgot the other. He had +brought it with him to the lake, and was trying the effect of his elegant +appearance. + +Chancing to thrust his hand in his pocket, he felt the long-forgotten +letter and drew it forth, then looking at it with wide open eyes and +mouth, gave vent to his surprise as follows: "Who’d a b’leved it! Here’s +this letter been in my pocket two weeks. I deserve to be cracked over the +head, and anybody but marster would do it. I’ll run and give it to him +now—but no, I won’t," said he, suddenly slackening his pace, "I’ve heard +him say he could always trust me, and if I own up this time, he’ll lose +his—what’s the word? Conference?—Yes, conference in me. I don’t believe +this letter’s of any account, for its a great big letter, just like a +man’s handwrite. Any way, I’ll wait till I get home and consult Leffie." + +The letter was accordingly put in his pocket, and in a few moments he +rejoined his master and Mr. Middleton. The next day they returned home. +Rondeau’s first act was to draw Leffie aside, and after winning from her +various strong promises of secrecy, he imparted to her the astounding fact +that, "He had found one of marster’s letters in his trousers—no, his coat +pocket. It had been there two weeks, and he didn’t know what in cain to do +with it. If he gave it to marster now, ’twould make him lose faith in him, +and so forth." + +Leffie heard him through, and then fully agreed with him that ’twas best +not to tell marster at this late hour. "But," said she, "I’d put it out of +the way, so ’twouldn’t be poppin’ out in sight some time." + +"Shall I burn it?" asked Rondeau. + +"Oh, no," said Leffie; "keep it so marster can have it, if he ever hears +of it. There’s your cigar box, take it and bury the letter in it." + +"Whew-ew," said Rondeau, with a prolonged whistle, "it takes you women to +calculate anything cute!" + +The cigar box was brought out, and in a few moments the poor letter was +lying quietly under a foot and a half of earth. + +"There," said Leffie, as Rondeau laid over the spot a piece of fresh green +turf, "nobody’ll ever have any idee whose grave this is." + +Rondeau rolled up his eyes, and assuming a most doleful expression, said, +"Couldn’t you manage to bust a tear or two, just to make it seem like a +real buryin’?" + +Leffie answered him by a sound box on his ear, at the same time +threatening to expose his wickedness at the next class meeting. Aunt +Dilsey’s voice was now heard calling out, "Leffie, Leffie, is you stun +deaf and blind now that fetched Rondeau’s done gone home? Come here this +minute!" + +Rondeau and Leffie returned to the house, leaving buried a letter, the +reading of which would have changed the tenor of their master’s feelings. + +For a knowledge of its contents as well of its author, we must go back for +a time to Frankfort whence it came, promising that Mr. Middleton will +follow us in a few days. + + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + + LETTERS WRITTEN BUT NEVER RECEIVED + + +In order to keep the threads of our narrative connected, it is necessary +that we go back for a time, and again open the scene in Frankfort, on the +24th of March, several days after the party, at which Florence Woodburn +met Fanny Middleton. Seated at her work table, in one of the upper rooms +of Mrs. Crane’s boarding house, is our old friend, Kate Miller. Her +dazzling beauty seems enhanced by the striking contrast between the +clearness of her complexion and the sable of her robe. + +On a low stool, at her feet, sits Fanny. Her head is resting on Mrs. +Miller’s lap, and she seems to be sleeping. She has been excused from +school this afternoon, on account of a sick, nervous headache, to which +she has recently been frequently subject. Finding the solitude of her own +chamber rather irksome, she had sought Mrs. Miller’s room, where she was +ever a welcome visitor. To Kate she had imparted a knowledge of the letter +which she supposed Dr. Lacey had written. + +Mrs. Miller’s sympathy for her young friend was as deep and sincere as was +her resentment against the supposed author of this letter. As yet, she had +kept Fanny’s secret inviolate, and not even her husband had ever suspected +the cause of Fanny’s failing strength. But, this afternoon, as she looked +on the fair girl’s sad, white face, which seemed to grow whiter and +thinner each day, she felt her heart swell with indignation toward one who +had wrought this fearful change. "Surely," thought she, "if Dr. Lacey +could know the almost fatal consequence of his faithlessness he would +relent; and he must, he shall know it. I will tell Mr. Miller and he I +know will write immediately." Then came the thought that she had promised +not to betray Fanny’s confidence; but she did not despair of gaining her +consent, that Mr. Miller should also know the secret. + +For a time Fanny slept on sweetly and quietly; then she moved uneasily in +her slumber, and finally awoke. + +"How is your head now?" asked Mrs. Miller, at the same time smoothing the +disordered ringlets which lay in such profusion over her lap. + +"Oh, much better," said Fanny. "I had a nice sleep, and so pleasant +dreams, too." + +"Did you dream of him?" asked Mrs. Miller, in a low tone. + +Quick as thought the crimson tide stained Fanny’s cheek and forehead, but +she answered, somewhat bitterly, "Oh, no, no! I never dream of him now, +and I am trying hard to forget him. I do not think I love him half as well +now as I once thought I did." + +Poor little Fanny! How deceived she was! After a time Mrs. Miller said, +"Fanny, Mr. Miller seems very anxious about your altered and languid +appearance. May I not tell him the truth? He will sympathize with you as +truly as I do; for he feels for you almost the affection of a brother." + +At first Fanny objected. "I know," said she, "that Mr. Miller would only +think me a weak, silly girl." Mrs. Miller, however, finally gained +permission to tell everything to her husband. "I know, though," persisted +Fanny, "that he will laugh at me. You say he likes me; I know he did once; +but since the time when he visited my father’s, more than a year ago, he +has not treated me with the same confidence he did before. I never knew +the reason, unless it was that foolish, romping mistake which I made one +afternoon by riding into the schoolhouse!" + +With many tears and some laughing—for the remembrance of the exploit +always excited her mirth—Fanny told a part of what we already know +concerning Mr. Miller’s visit at her father’s the winter previous. She +related the adventure of the sled ride, and said that the morning after +she noticed a change in Mr. Miller’s manner toward her. The unsuspecting +girl little thought what was the true reason of that change. + +While she was yet speaking, Mr. Miller entered the room. On seeing Fanny +there, and weeping, he said: "What, Sunshine in tears? That is hardly the +remedy I would prescribe for headache. But come, Fanny, tell me what is +the matter." + +"Oh, I cannot, I cannot!" said Fanny, and again she buried her face in +Kate’s lap. + +Mr. Miller looked inquiringly at his wife, who had not yet ceased laughing +at Fanny’s ludicrous description of her sled ride; but overcoming her +merriment, she at length found voice to say, "Fanny is crying because she +thinks you do not like her as well as you used to." + +Kate had never dreamed that her husband had once felt more than a +brother’s love for the weeping girl before her, and she did not know what +pain her words inflicted on his noble heart. Neither did she think there +was the least ground for Fanny’s supposition, and she desired her husband +to say so. + +"I cannot say so and tell the truth," said Mr. Miller, "but I can assure +you that Bill Jeffrey’s sled had nothing to do with it." + +"What was it then?" asked Kate and Fanny, both in the same breath. + +Mr. Miller drew Fanny toward him with the freedom of an elder brother, +and, in a low, earnest tone, said: "Did nothing else occur during my +visit, which could have changed my opinion of you?" + +Fanny lifted her large blue eyes to Mr. Miller’s face with so truthful, +wondering a gaze that he was puzzled. "Can it be," thought he, "that I did +not hear aright, that I was deceived? I will, at least, ask her how she +spent that evening," so he said: "Fanny, do you remember where you were, +or how you were occupied during the last evening of my stay at your +father’s?" + +At first Fanny seemed trying to recall the events of that night; then she +said: "Oh, yes, I remember now perfectly well. You and Mr. Wilmot had +letters to write, and went to your room early, while father and mother +went to one of the neighbors, leaving Julia and me alone in the sitting +room." + +"Did you both remain in the sitting room during the evening?" continued +Mr. Miller. + +"Yes," said Fanny, "or, that is, I stayed there all the time; but Julia +was gone a long time, and when she returned she would not tell me where +she had been." + +"But were not you and Luce in your room at all that evening?" continued +Mr. Miller. + +"Luce!" said Fanny; "I do not remember having seen her once that night; +neither was I in my room until bedtime." + +There was so much frankness and apparent truth in Fanny’s face and manner +that Mr. Miller never for a moment doubted her. His first feeling was one +of intense happiness at finding that Fanny was, indeed, all he had once +fancied her to be. Back through the channels of his heart rolled, for an +instant, the full tide of his once secretly nurtured affection for her. It +was for an instant, however; for one look at the beautiful Kate convinced +him that the love he once bore the gentle, timid girl at his side was +nought, when compared with the deep, ardent affection which he now felt +for his own cherished wife. "Fanny," said he, "I have wronged you in +thought, but never in word or deed, to my knowledge. I was, however, +grossly deceived, although I can see no object for the deception." + +"What can you mean?" asked Kate, rather anxiously. "Do explain yourself, +and not deal in mysteries any longer. What dreadful thing did you imagine +Fanny had done—set the stables on fire, or abused the blacks—which?" + +Mr. Miller did not immediately answer; and Fanny said: "Come, Mr. Miller, +it is not fair to suspect me of evil and not tell what it is. You should +be more frank." + +"I will tell you," said Mr. Miller; and, in as few words as possible he +repeated to Fanny the conversation which he had overheard, between Luce +and herself, as he supposed. + +When he finished speaking, both Kate and Fanny were silent for a moment; +then Kate said: "It was Julia, I know it was. Did you ever notice how much +alike their voices are? And, besides, I once heard Julia lay a wager with +Mr. Raymond that she could imitate her sister’s voice so exactly that one, +not seeing her, would be thoroughly deceived." + +"Oh, Mrs. Miller," said Fanny, "it cannot be! Why should Julia wish to do +so wicked a thing? And yet I now remember that when I was sick, Luce came +to me one night and asked me to forgive her for everything bad she had +ever done to me. I assured her I knew of nothing to forgive; and then she +cried, and said I did not know all she did about her wickedness. She must +have referred to that night. I can forgive her; for she is a poor ignorant +girl, and much afraid of Julia. But how could my own sister do me so great +a wrong, and what could have been her object?" + +Here Fanny burst into tears, while Kate gave vent to her indignation by +expressing her opinion pretty freely of Miss Julia. + +"I can see," said she, "what Julia’s object was. I fancy she was always +fearful lest my brother should like Fanny the best; and she probably took +this method to make you both think meanly of Fanny." + +"Your idea is, probably, the correct one," said Mr. Miller, who would have +added more, but Kate interrupted him by saying, "Yes, I think I understand +it all now. Julia is, probably, at the foundation of Dr. Lacey’s neglect. +Most likely she’s been writing him some base falsehood." + +"Dr. Lacey’s neglect!" repeated Mr. Miller. "What do you mean?" + +Kate commenced an explanation, but Fanny started up, saying: "Please, Mrs. +Miller, wait until I am gone." + +She then quitted the apartment, and sought her own room, of which Julia +had been sole occupant for more than an hour. On her return from school +this hopeful young lady was pleased to find her sister absent. Seating +herself near the window, with paper and pencil, she began the composition +of that letter, which, as we have said, widened the breach between Dr. +Lacey and Fanny. This unhallowed work cost her a world of pains. Many +times were the lines crossed out and rewritten, before they quite suited +her. The letter was but half completed, when Fanny was heard coming slowly +through the upper hall. Springing up, Julia darted through the window out +upon the balcony, and by the time Fanny reached the room she was seated at +the furthest end of the veranda, busily engaged with her forgery. + +When she at last returned to the room, and tried to converse with her +sister, she observed that Fanny shrank from her approach and that she had +been weeping. In a very ironical tone Julia said, "What now is the matter? +I declare, Fan, I believe you are a perfect little simpleton. I wouldn’t +be such a cry baby, anyway; and make so much fuss about one +good-for-nothing doctor." + +Fanny replied very calmly, and without once taking her eyes from her +sister’s face, "If you think I have been crying about Dr. Lacey, you are +mistaken." + +"Pray what did you cry for?" said Julia, laughingly. "Did somebody look +sideways at you, or omit to call you by some pet baby name?" + +"I cried," said Fanny, "because I feared you had been acting very wickedly +toward me." + +In an instant Julia’s assurance left her. The bright color forsook her +cheek, which became perfectly white. Fanny noticed the change, and it +confirmed her fears. She did not know that the circumstances to which she +alluded had long since faded from Julia’s memory, and that her present +agitation arose from the fear that she might have been detected in her +work of deception, and that, after all, she might be foiled and entangled +in her own meshes. A glance of intense anger flashed from her large black +eye, as she muttered between her closed teeth: "Has the wretch dared to +betray me?" + +Fanny supposed she referred to Luce; and her first feeling was to save the +helpless servant girl from Julia’s displeasure; so she said, "Do not +condemn Luce; she did not tell me. I received my information from our +teacher, Mr. Miller." + +"Luce! Mr. Miller! What do you mean?" asked Julia, her eyes lessening to +their usual size, and the color again coming to her cheeks and lips. This +sudden change in her sister’s appearance puzzled Fanny; but she proceeded +to relate what she had just heard from Mr. Miller. Julia was so much +relieved to find her fears unfounded, and her darling secret safe, that +she burst into a loud laugh, which she continued for some time. During +this fit of laughter, she was determining whether it were best to confess +the whole and seem sorry for it, or to strenuously deny it. Finally, she +decided on the former, but resolved not to give the right reason for her +conduct; so she said, with an air of great penitence: "Yes, Fanny, I am +guilty, and I am glad you know it, too. I have been on the point of +acknowledging it to you many times, but shame kept me silent." + +"How could you do it, and what did you do it for?" asked Fanny. + +Julia replied, "Truth compels me to say that I feared your influence over +Mr. Wilmot. I knew how much he admired amiability in females, and I wished +to make him think you were no more amiable than other people." + +"And yet you say you never cared for his love," continued Fanny. + +Miss Julia was getting cornered; but her evil genius did not forsake her, +and she answered, "True, I did not care much for him; but I felt flattered +with his attentions and I ardently desired to have one person prefer me to +you. I know it was wicked in me to do what I did, but you will forgive me, +will you not? And I will promise never again to act so deceitfully toward +you." + +Always sincere in what she said herself, Fanny could not think her sister +otherwise; so her hand was extended in token of forgiveness. Julia took +it, and raising it to her lips, kept it there for an instant, in order to +conceal the treacherous smile of exultation which played round her mouth. +"I shall yet triumph," thought she, and, in the exuberance of her joy, she +kissed again the soft hand which she held in her grasp. Could Fanny have +looked into the heart of her sister, and beheld all its dark designs, she +would have fled from her presence as from a poisonous serpent. But, though +she was deceived, there was one, the All-seeing One, whose eye was ever +upon the sinful girl; and though for a while she seemed to prosper, the +same mighty Power so ordered it, that after a time, she who had sown the +tempest reaped the whirlwind; and the clouds which hung so heavy and dark +around the pathway of her innocent victim, afterward burst with terrific +violence upon her own head. + +We will now return to Mrs. Miller, whom we left relating to her husband +the supposed neglect of Dr. Lacey. She finished her narrative by saying, +"I cannot help thinking that by some means, Julia is at the foundation of +all this mischief. You and Dr. Lacey were good friends; suppose you write +to him, and then we shall at least know the truth of the matter." + +"Yes, I will," said Mr. Miller; "tomorrow." + +"But why not write tonight?" asked Kate, who was in a hurry. + +"Because," answered Mr. Miller, "I shall be engaged tonight and tomorrow +will do as well." + +Kate could not help feeling that, possibly, "tomorrow" might not do as +well; but she said no more on the subject, and waited patiently for the +morrow, when, true to his promise, her husband commenced the important +letter. We have said that Mr. Miller had never liked Julia. In this +letter, however, he spoke as favorably of her as he could; but he told how +basely she had once deceived himself and Mr. Wilmot, with regard to Fanny, +and also hinted his own and his wife’s suspicion, that, in some way or +other, Julia was connected with Dr. Lacey’s long silence, as well as with +the heartless letter which Fanny had received from New Orleans. + +"Yes, this will do," said Kate, as she read what her husband had written. +"But," she added, "I cannot help feeling sorry that it was not sent +yesterday." + +"Oh, Kate," said Mr. Miller, gayly, "your anxiety for Fanny has made you +nervous, and now you are almost superstitious. One day can make no +possible difference in the result of this letter." + +Afterward, when it was too late, he learned how much difference the delay +of one day caused. By its means, that letter which would have set all +right, was sent in the same package with Julia’s amiable production, and, +as we have seen, was not received by its owner, but was safely stowed away +in a cigar box under ground. + +Soon after Mr. Miller deposited his letter in the post office, a young +girl, closely veiled, entered the same building, and looked anxiously +round until her eye fell upon her accomplice, Mr. Dunn. That worthy young +man instantly came forward, grinning and bowing, and almost upsetting +another clerk, who was also hastening to wait upon the beautiful Miss +Middleton. + +"Good morning, Miss Julia!" said Mr. Dunn; "glad to see you. Fine +morning." + +Julia did not deign to reply, for Mr. Dunn’s familiarity was exceedingly +disgusting to her. She, however, handed him her letter, which he looked at +in some surprise, and said in a low tone, "Is this letter from Fanny, or +you?" + +"From me; send it," answered Julia, at the same time managing to slip an +eagle into the hands of the honest clerk. + +Leaving the office, the young lady proceeded homeward, thinking to +herself, "There, that will settle him, I hope. I am getting on +swimmingly." + +When Mr. Miller entered his room, on his return from the office, Kate +said, "In the course of two weeks, you or Fanny or both, will hear from +Dr. Lacey." + +"Do not be too sanguine, Katy," answered Mr. Miller: "you may be +disappointed." + +"Well," continued Kate, "if he pays no attention to your letter, I shall +be satisfied that he really is undeserving of Fanny’s esteem. I’ll not +tell her that you have written, for fear of the consequence." + +So days came and went, week followed week, in rapid succession, until five +weeks were numbered with the past since Mr. Miller’s letter had been +dispatched. Kate had waited and watched until even her sanguine nature had +ceased to hope; for there had come no tidings from the far off Crescent +City, and both she and her husband had unwillingly come to the conclusion +that Dr. Lacey was really false. Kate manifested her disappointment by an +increased tenderness of manner toward Fanny, whom she sincerely loved, and +by a more gracious deportment toward Julia, whom she began to fear she had +wronged by suspecting her of being accessory to Dr. Lacey’s conduct. + + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + + FANNY AND JULIA’S UNCLE ARRIVES FROM INDIA + + +It was now the first day of May, and as it was also Fanny’s seventeenth +birthday, her school companions determined to celebrate it by a May party, +of which Fanny was unanimously chosen queen. The fete took place in a +handsome grove on a hillside which overlooked the city of Frankfort. All +of Mr. Miller’s pupils were present, together with most of their parents +and many of their friends. Mrs. Miller had taken great pains that Fanny +should be arrayed becomingly for the occasion, and many and flattering +were the compliments paid to the youthful queen, who indeed looked +bewitchingly beautiful. + +Her dress was a white muslin, festooned with wild flowers, some of which +were fastened here and there by a pearl or brilliant. The gayety of the +little party was at its height, and when Fanny, gracefully kneeling, +received upon her head the crown, and was proclaimed "Queen of the May," a +strange voice called out in loud, musical tones, "Viva la Reine." The +whole company instantly caught up the words, and "Long live the Queen" was +echoed and re-echoed on all sides. + +When the tumult had somewhat subsided the eyes of those present were +turned toward the spot whence the words "Viva la Reine" had proceeded. +Leaning against one of the tall shade trees were two gentlemen, who had +joined them unobserved. The elder of the strangers was a middle-aged man, +in whose piercing black eyes and dark complexion we recognize the Mr. +Middleton whom we left with Dr. Lacey in New Orleans. His companion was +many years younger, and there was something in his appearance which +instantly interested and attracted the notice of strangers. There was a +nobleness in the intellectual cast of his high, white forehead, round +which his rich brown hair lay in thick masses, as if unwilling to part +with the curl which must have been natural to it in childhood. + +No sooner did Kate’s eyes fall on the young man than she darted forward +with a cry of recognition and exclaimed, "Why, Frank Cameron, how came you +here?" + +But before he answers Kate’s question, we will introduce him to our +readers. Frank Cameron was a cousin of Kate Wilmot. His father, who was a +lawyer by profession, had amassed a large fortune, on the interest of +which he was now living in elegant style in the city of New York. Frank, +who was the eldest child, had chosen the profession of his father, +contrary to the wishes of his proud lady mother, who looked upon all +professions as too plebeian to suit her ideas of gentility. This +aristocratic lady had forgotten the time when, with blue cotton umbrella +and thick India rubbers, she had plodded through the mud and water of the +streets in Albany, giving music lessons for her own and widowed mother’s +maintenance. One of her pupils was Kate Wilmot’s mother, Lucy Cameron. +While giving lessons to her she first met Lucy’s brother, Arthur Cameron, +who afterward became her husband. He was attracted by her extreme beauty +and his admiration was increased on learning her praiseworthy efforts to +maintain herself and mother. They were married, and with increasing years +came increasing wealth, until at length Mr. Cameron was a millionaire and +retired from business. + +As riches increased, so did Mrs. Cameron’s proud spirit, until she came to +look upon herself as somewhat above the common order of her fellow-beings. +She endeavored to instil her ideas of exclusiveness into the minds of her +children. With her daughter Gertrude, she succeeded admirably, and by the +time that young lady had reached her eighteenth year, she fancied herself +a kind of queen to whom all must pay homage. But Frank the poor mother +found perfectly incorrigible. He was too much like his father to think +himself better than his neighbor on account of his wealth. Poor Mrs. +Cameron had long given him up, only asking as a favor that he would not +disgrace his family by marrying the washerwoman’s daughter. Frank promised +he would not, unless perchance he should fall in love with her, "And +then," said he, with a wicked twinkle of his handsome hazel eyes, "then, +my dear Mrs. Cameron, I cannot be answerable for consequences." + +He had always greatly admired his cousin Kate, and often horrified his +mother by declaring that if Kate were not his cousin, he would surely +marry her. "Thank the Lord, then, that she is so near a relative! For now +you will not stoop to marry a music teacher," said Mrs. Cameron. + +The old roguish expression danced in Frank’s eye, as he said, "Most noble +mother Adelaide, will you tell me whether it wrenched father’s back much +when he stooped to a music teacher?" + +The highly indignant lady was silent, for Frank had a way of reminding her +of the past, which she did not quite relish; so she let him alone, +secretly praying that he would not make a fool of himself in his choice of +a wife. He bade her be easy on that point, for ’twasn’t likely he would +ever marry, for he probably would never find a wife who would suit him. + +Such was Frank Cameron. Business for his father had taken him to +Louisville, and he determined to visit his cousin Kate ere he returned +home. He took passage in the Blue Wing, on board of which was Mr. +Middleton, who soon made his acquaintance. As they were bound for the same +place, they kept together, and on reaching Frankfort, went immediately to +Mrs. Crane’s, where they were entertained by Mrs. Carrington, who wondered +much who the distinguished looking strangers could be. Concluding that the +older one must of course be married, she turned her attention to Frank, +who was much amused at her airs and coquettish manners. He had inquired +for Mrs. Miller, and at length Mrs. Carrington asked if she were an +acquaintance of his. + +"Yes, ma’am," answered Frank with great gravity, "she is my wife’s +cousin." + +In an instant Mrs. Carrington’s coquetry vanished, and rising upon her +dignity, she soon gave the gentlemen directions where to find the May +party. As they were proceeding thither, Mr. Middleton said, "Why, Cameron, +I understood you to say on the boat that you were not married." + +"Neither am I," answered Frank. "I merely wished to get a dissolving view +of that lady’s maneuvers. Besides, I was actually afraid of being +annihilated by her eyes and smiles. I’ll manage to let her know that you +are marketable, and then she’ll turn her artillery toward you." + +"But was it quite right," said Mr. Middleton, "to give her a wrong +impression?" + +"No, I suppose not," answered Frank. "But if I ever marry, Kate will be my +wife’s cousin." + +By this time they had reached the entrance of the grove and caught sight +of the fair queen. "The fates protect me!" said Frank, suddenly stopping +and planting himself against a tree. "It would be suicide to advance +another step. And she is your niece, you say. Pray intercede for me, or in +less than a month I shall be making faces through the iron grating of some +madhouse." + +Mr. Middleton did not reply. His eyes were riveted on Fanny, whose face +and figure recalled to his remembrance his only sister, who was the +playmate of his childish years. Many long years had rolled away since that +bright summer morning, when with a sad heart he bade adieu to that sister, +who, a young happy bride, was leaving her native land for a home on a +foreign shore. Weeks passed, and there came intelligence that the +ill-fated vessel in which she embarked was a total wreck. Among the lost +were his sister and her husband, who now slept quietly beneath the billowy +surf of the Atlantic. + +Fanny so strongly resembled her Aunt that it was not strange Mr. Middleton +for an instant fancied he again looked on the features of his long-lost +sister. But the illusion soon vanished, and when Kate bounded forward and +saluted her cousin, his eye was wandering over the group of young girls in +quest of his other niece. He, however, looked in vain. Julia was not +there. When urged to attend the party, she had tossed her head in scorn +saying that she unfortunately had no taste for child’s play. She preferred +remaining at home, where she could spend her time more profitably. Oh, +Julia, Julia! It is a pity you did not assign your true reason for +absenting yourself from the party. Of this reason we will speak hereafter. +We are not quite through with the May party. + +We left Kate interrogating her cousin as to how he chanced to be there, +and the remainder of the company looked in wonder upon the strangers, who +seemed so suddenly to have dropped in their midst. After Frank had +answered his cousin’s question, he introduced his companion and said, "He +has two nieces here, I believe. He has recognized one of them in your +charming queen. Will you please point out the other and introduce him?" + +"I am sorry to say Julia is not present," answered Kate. "But come with +me, Mr. Middleton," continued she, "and I will present you to Fanny." Then +turning to Frank, she added, "I remember you to be a woman-hater, master +Frank, so you can remain where you are." + +"I’d laugh to see myself doing it," answered Frank, as he followed his gay +cousin to the spot where Fanny was standing. All eyes were upon them, +while Kate introduced the tall, distinguished-looking gentleman to Fanny +as her uncle. + +"My uncle!" said Fanny, in some surprise. "My uncle!" + +A slight shade of disappointment was visible on Mr. Middleton’s face, as +he took the offered hand of his niece, but he said, "Yes, your uncle. Did +you never hear your father speak of his brother Bill?" + +"Oh, yes, yes," said Fanny joyfully. "I do know you now. You are my Uncle +William from the Indies. Father will be delighted to see you, for he has +long feared you were dead." At the same time the affectionate girl again +took her uncle’s hand and raised it to her lips. + +The tears started to Mr. Middleton’s eyes, but hastily dashing them away, +he said, "I suppose the fair Queen Fanny knows that bad bills always +return?" + +Fanny replied by again kissing the sunburned hand of her uncle. "King +Ferdinand!" thought Frank, "I’d endure the rack for the sake of being in +the old fellow’s boots." Frank had been standing near Fanny, fixing upon +her a gaze so intensely earnest that when she at last raised her eyes to +his she blushed deeply, for there was no mistaking the look of deep +admiration with which he regarded her. + +Kate immediately introduced him. Fanny received him very politely, but +said playfully, "I was in hopes, Mr. Cameron, that you would prove to be +my cousin." + +Mr. Middleton immediately answered, "No, dear Fanny, he is not your +cousin, but he seems very desirous of becoming my nephew." + +Fanny did not apply this to herself, but answered very demurely, "I don’t +know what he’ll do, uncle. You’ll have to talk the matter over with sister +Julia, who unfortunately is not here." + +"You are a modest little puss," said Mr. Middleton. "But do you give up +everything so quietly to Julia?" + +Fanny answered somewhat sadly, "I’ve nothing to give." + +Here Mr. Miller joined them, and said it was time to make preparations for +returning’ home. Accordingly in a short time the company were dispersing. +When our party reached Mrs. Crane’s, Fanny went directly to Julia, whom +she found most becomingly dressed, and apparently anxiously awaiting her +return. + +That excellent young lady had heard from Mrs. Carrington of the strangers’ +visit, and she was impatient to know who they were and had dispatched a +negro girl to reconnoiter and report. The girl soon came back, her eyes +projecting like coffee saucers, and the little braided tags of her hair +seemingly standing upright. + +"Oh, Miss Julia!" said she, "that ar’ tall, black man—no, I ax yer pardon, +miss—that ar’ tall, yaller man, done shook hands ’long of Miss Fanny, who +kissed him, and called him Uncle William. She said how he done been with +the Injuns." + +"Her Uncle William!" repeated Julia, in amazement. "And who is the other +man? His son?" + +"Yes, reckon so," said the negro. "They done call him Mr. Camel, or +Camlet, or suthin. I tell you he’s han’some; and I reckon he’s tuk with +Miss Fanny. Jiminy hoecake! Ain’t she pooty? She looked a heap han’somer +than you—no, I don’t mean so—I axes pardon agin." And the negro bobbed out +of the door just in time to dodge a ball of soap which Julia hurled at her +head. + +"It’s no use fretting so," said Mrs. Carrington, who was present. "The +young man is married, for he spoke of his wife." + +Julia did not answer, and Mrs. Carrington soon after left the room. When +she was gone, Julia muttered to herself, "Uncle William, from the Indies; +rich as Crœsus, of course. What a fool I was not to go to the party. Most +likely Fanny has won his good graces by this time. However, I’ll dress +myself and surprise him with my beauty, if nothing else." + +Accordingly, the next hour was spent in decorating her person, and when +Fanny came for her she was ready to make an assault upon the good opinion +of her rich uncle. Not a thing was out of place, from the shining braids +of her dark hair to the tiny slipper on her delicate foot. + +Fanny’s first exclamation on entering the room was, "How beautiful you +look, Julia! It is exceedingly fortunate that you are dressed so +becomingly; for, will you believe it, Uncle William is down stairs!" + +"Is it possible?" said Julia, affecting much surprise. + +"Yes," answered Fanny. "You know father thinks him dead. But come, he is +anxious to see you." + +Julia arose to go with her sister, and said, "Isn’t there a young man with +him?" + +"How did you know that?" asked Fanny, in some astonishment. + +"I saw them from the window," was Julia’s ready reply. + +Fanny did not think of doubting her sister, and she answered, "It is a Mr. +Cameron. He is cousin to Mrs. Miller." + +By this time they had reached the parlor, which was open. Here Julia +thought proper to be seized with a fit of modest indifference, and +hesitated a moment before entering the room. Her uncle, however, +immediately came forward, and relieved her from all embarrassment by +saying, "And this, I suppose, is Julia. My brother is a happy man to be +father of such charming girls." + +Julia received him graciously, but rather haughtily offered him her cold +white hand. "I will not kiss him," thought she; "Fanny did that. It’s too +childish. I’ll he more dignified." Could she have known the contrast which +her uncle was drawing between her own and Fanny’s reception of him she +would not have felt much flattered; but before her uncle had time to say +anything further, Fanny introduced her to Frank, whose keen eye had read +her character at a glance, and read it aright, too. His ideas and words +were after the following fashion: + +"Pshaw! What a bundle of pride and stuck-up-ishness! She’s handsome, +though, but it isn’t to be named the same day with Fanny,"—"How do you do, +Miss Middleton?"—"What an affected little courtesy!"—"Hope to see you +well, ma’am."—"I’d laugh to see her trip and fall flat." + +Such were Frank’s thoughts while undergoing the ceremony of an +introduction to Julia, who never for a moment doubted she was making an +impression upon the handsome young stranger, his supposed wife to the +contrary notwithstanding. The introduction being over, Julia seated +herself on the sofa, while Fanny took a seat on a low ottoman near her +uncle, but partially behind him. She had chosen this place, because she +fancied it would screen her somewhat from Frank’s eyes, which she felt, +rather than saw, were fixed upon her constantly. + +During the conversation which followed, Julia, as if by mere accident, +mentioned New Orleans. She was anxious to know whether her uncle saw or +heard of Dr. Lacey. Her curiosity was soon gratified, for, at the mention +of New Orleans, as if suddenly recollecting himself, said, turning to +Fanny, "I saw two of your acquaintances in New Orleans, and one of them +gave me a most glowing description of you." + +"I wonder if it were a gentleman," thought Frank. + +Julia’s thoughts were similar, and she bit her lip, while Fanny’s cheek +glowed with unwonted brilliancy as she quietly asked, "Pray, who was it +uncle?" + +"It was Miss Woodburn who praised you so highly," answered Mr. Middleton. + +Julia immediately asked, "And who was the other acquaintance?" + +"Dr. Lacey," answered her uncle. "I spent three weeks at his house." + +Without knowing it, Fanny drew nearer to her uncle and laid her hand on +his. He seemed dearer to her from the fact that he had spent so much time +with one whose image was ever before her, and whom she vainly fancied she +was trying to forget. + +Frank noticed Fanny’s manner, and interpreted it according to his fears. +"There’s mischief here," thought he. "I hope this doctor lives in a good +locality for yellow fever." + +"Is Dr. Lacey about to be married?" asked Julia. + +"Married," repeated Mr. Middleton; "I should say matrimony was very far +from his thoughts at present. I fancied he had met with some +disappointment and I sometimes feared lest the fair, deceitful one were +one of my nieces. Can any one set me right on the subject?" + +Mr. Middleton had no idea how painfully his words affected her who sat by +his side, and looked up so imploringly in his face, as if begging him to +stop. There was an embarrassing silence, which Julia presently broke, by +saying, "While Dr. Lacey was here, he and Fanny got up a flirtation; but +nothing serious will result from it, I reckon." + +"It’s Fanny’s own fault, then, I imagine," said Mr. Middleton, laying his +hand on the head which had drooped lower and lower, until at last it +rested heavily on his knee. + +Fanny made no reply; but when she lifted up her head there was something +so sad in the expression of her face that Mr. Middleton immediately +surmised that there was, or had been, something between Dr. Lacey and +Fanny more serious than a mere flirtation; so he very kindly changed the +conversation, which now turned upon indifferent subjects, until the supper +bell rang out its summons, when they all repaired to the dining room. + +At the supper table Mr. Middleton and Frank were introduced to Mrs. +Carrington, Mr. Stanton and Raymond. Mrs. Carrington acknowledged her +introduction to Mr. Cameron merely by a haughty, disdainful bow. She had +learned from Kate that he was not married; and feeling indignant at the +deception he attempted to practice upon her, she resolved to treat him +with contempt. Accordingly, although seated opposite him, she deigned him +neither look nor word, but divided her time between laughing and +coquetting with Raymond, and trying the power of her charms upon Mr. +Middleton, who, she had been told, was a bachelor, and possessed of +unbounded wealth. With the old Indian, however, she made but little +headway; and Frank was right when he thought, "You’ll get tired of that +play, madam; the game is too old to be caught with chaff." With Raymond +she succeeded better. He was delighted with her unusually flattering +notice; and ere supper was over he had, in Frank’s estimation, made a +perfect fool of himself. + +Frank’s attention was, however, soon diverted toward Mr. Middleton, who +said, speaking to Stanton, "Were it not for your name and glasses, I would +address you as Dr. Lacey. Are you related to him?" + +Stanton replied, "Yes, sir; he is my cousin. I think I must resemble him, +as I have been told so frequently." + +Mr. Middleton then spoke of Dr. Lacey in the highest terms of +commendation, and concluded his remarks by saying, "I have recently +purchased a residence, near Lake Pontchartrain, and am beating up recruits +to spend the summer there with me. I am sure of Dr. Lacey, Miss Woodburn, +and her cousin, Miss Mortimer. My nieces I shall take back with me, any +way, and shall be happy to prevail on you, Mr. Stanton, to accompany me +also." + +Stanton thanked him for his kind invitation, but at the same time declined +it, saying that business would call him to New York in the autumn. The +deep blush which accompanied these words caused Raymond to burst into a +laugh. Mr. Middleton looked inquiringly at him and he said, "Pardon me for +laughing; I was thinking of the important business which calls Bob to New +York." + +"Nothing bad, I hope," said Mr. Middleton. + +"Nothing worse than going for a wife," answered Raymond. "He is not suited +with Kentucky girls, but must needs plod back to New York." + +"If appearances do not deceive, you, at least, seem likely to be suited by +a Kentuckian," replied Mr. Middleton, at the same time turning his black +eyes on Mrs. Carrington with something of a quizzical expression. + +Raymond colored. He did not know how the speech would be received by the +fair lady. She soon satisfied him, however; for tossing her head proudly, +she said, "As far as my experience goes, New Yorkers are more easily +suited than Kentuckians; at least, I find them to be exceedingly +disagreeable." + +"I am afraid some of them are so easily suited that they catch a Tartar +sometimes," said Frank, whose feelings were roused at hearing this rude +speech. + +Mrs. Carrington gave him a look which she meant should say, "I wonder who +you think you are. I’d thank you to mind your own business." + +But Frank thought he was minding his business; for he was looking at +Fanny, who had not taken her eyes from her plate since her uncle had +proposed taking herself and Julia to New Orleans. Her first feeling was +one of joy. She would go, for she would then see Dr. Lacey; but the next +thought was, "No, I will not. He has spurned me, and why should I put +myself in his way?" + +Julia’s feelings were different. She could scarcely conceal her delight. +Her artful mind took in the future at a glance. She felt sure that Fanny +would not go; but she would, and could thus make Dr. Lacey believe that +she, of all others, was just suited for him. Here we may as well give +Julia’s real reason for absenting herself from the May party. She had +begun to fear that all her fine scheming might come to naught; for in all +probability Dr. Lacey would not return to Kentucky in a long time. What +could she do? She would write him a letter in her own name. In it she +would modestly express her opinion of Fanny’s conduct; sympathize with him +in his disappointment, and end by inviting him to Frankfort, saying she +hoped he would not absent himself from his friends on Fanny’s account; for +there were many who would welcome him back to Kentucky with pleasure. It +was for the sake of manufacturing this letter that Julia had remained at +home. But now there was no need of sending it, for she was going to New +Orleans herself. She would win him. He would yet be hers. + +On returning to the parlor after supper she seated herself close to her +uncle, upon whom she lavished so many caresses that he wondered much what +had come over her, and began to think that he was mistaken in supposing +her to be cold-hearted and indifferent to him. As he looked at her +beautiful, animated face, and the sparkling brilliancy of her eyes, he +felt a moment’s vanity in thinking how proud he would be to introduce her +as his niece among the fashionables of New Orleans. + +During the evening Mr. Ashton called. He had heard of the arrival of a Mr. +Middleton from the Indies, and he had his own particular reason for +wishing to see him. Soon after entering the room, he addressed Mr. +Middleton, saying, "Were you in Calcutta twelve years ago?" + +"Yes, sir; I was there twenty years ago," answered Mr. Middleton. + +"Do you remember transacting business with the captain of the English +vessel ’Delphine’?" + +Mr. Middleton thought a moment and then answered, "Yes, I remember that +vessel and its captain well." + +"And do you remember a poor cabin boy, who was sick and worn out with the +ship fever?" continued Mr. Ashton. + +"Oh, yes, yes; I remember him well," said Mr. Middleton. "I had him +removed to my own house, and nursed him until he was nearly well; and +then, he one night ran away from me. I have never heard from him since; +but there was an American vessel anchored near the shore, and I always +supposed he went on board and sailed for home. I would give much to know +what became of him." + +"He stands before you," said Mr. Ashton, rising and grasping Mr. +Middleton’s hand. "He is here to thank you for your kindness, and is both +able and willing to repay you for the care you took of him who was alone +and friendless in a distant land." + +"Can it be," said Mr. Middleton, with much emotion, "that you really are +Henry Ashton? I should never have recognized you." + +"I presume not," answered Ashton. "Twelve years have transformed the pale, +emaciated youth into the tall, full-grown man. But I should have known you +anywhere." + +Here Raymond called out, "Why Ashton, have you been to the Indies? Why did +you never tell us?" + +"Because," replied Ashton, "there was so much of homesickness and +suffering attending that voyage to India that I never like to speak of +it." Then turning to Mr. Middleton, he said, "I have met your brother +often, but never suspected him to be a relative of yours. Have you seen +him yet?" + +"I have not," answered Mr. Middleton. "I intend visiting him tomorrow, and +shall be glad, to take as many of you with me as are willing to go. I wish +to be introduced to him as a Mr. Stafford from New Orleans." + +After some further conversation it was arranged that Mr. Miller, Ashton, +Stanton, Raymond and Cameron should all accompany Mr. Middleton on his +projected visit to his brother. Soon after Mr. Ashton departed for his +boarding place, and the remainder of the company separated for the night. + + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + + MR. MIDDLETON’S BROTHER + + +Julia’s first exclamation, on waking the next morning, was, "I am glad I +am not expected to go home with uncle today, and see father make a +precious fool of himself, as he surely will." + +"How can you say so, Julia?" answered Fanny. "I wish I was going, for I +think I could smooth father down a little if he got to using too strong +language." + +"Nonsense, Fan," said Julia. "Why don’t you confess that you wish to go +because that handsome Cameron is going? Didn’t I see how much he looked at +you, and how you blushed, too? But no matter. I would get him, if I were +you!" + +Julia was getting very generous, now that she thought herself sure of Dr. +Lacey. Further remark from her, however, was prevented by the ringing of +the breakfast bell. + +"What shall I tell your parents?" said Mr. Middleton to his nieces, as he +stood in the hall, waiting for the driver to open the carriage door and +let down the steps. + +Julia made no reply, but Fanny said, "Give them my love, and tell them I +am getting better every day, and shall want to come home soon," and then +she added, in a lower tone, "You will not laugh at father much, will you, +or make fun of him either, if he acts oddly?" + +"God bless you, sweet girl," said Mr. Middleton, stooping to kiss the +innocent face which looked up into his with so much earnestness. "For your +sake, if for no other, your father shall not be laughed at." + +As the carriage drove off, Julia turned to Fanny and said, "Won’t they +have fun, though, with the old man? I can fancy it all. Father’s beard +will probably be long enough to do up in papers, and it will be a miracle +if he does not have on those horrid old bagging pants of his." + +Fanny was only too fearful it would all be as Julia predicted, but she +made no answer, and soon returned to her room. + +We will now follow the carriage, which, with its load of gentlemen, was +proceeding rapidly toward the house of our friend Uncle Joshua. Mr. +William Middleton, or Mr. Stafford, as we will call him for a time, seemed +to grow excited as he approached nearer to a brother whose face he had not +looked upon for more than twenty long years. + +"I say, boys," said he, speaking to his companions, "you must help me, and +when I begin to ask Joshua concerning his parents and brothers, you, too, +must talk, or he will suspect I have some design in questioning him." + +The gentlemen all promised to do their best, except Frank, who could +promise nothing, because he knew nothing concerning the man they were +going to visit. His curiosity, however, was aroused, and forgetting the +presence of Mr. William Middleton, "Do they keep the old fellow caged? And +must we pay anything for seeing him?" + +These questions were greeted by a burst of laughter, and Raymond said, +"No—admittance is free, but you’ll be more amused to see him and hear him +talk than you would in visiting Barnum’s Museum!" + +By this time the carriage had entered the woods, and they came in sight of +the house. Mr. Stafford leaned from the window, and said, "Is it possible +that my brother, with all his wealth, lives in such a heathen place as +this?" + +"When you see him," said Raymond, "you’ll think the nest just suited the +bird." + +They were now in the yard, which was so filled with farming utensils that +the driver found it difficult to effect a passage up to the door. The +gentlemen were about concluding to alight where they were, when Mr. +Middleton was heard calling out, "Ho, thar, driver, don’t run agin that ar +ox-cart; turn a leetle to the right, can’t ye? Now be keerful and not run +afoul of the plaguey lye leech. I b’lieve the niggers would move the hut, +Josh and all, into the yard, if they could only make a raise!" + +Mr. Stafford and Frank looked eagerly out at the speaker, who fully +realized Frank’s idea of him. His beard was as long and black as a rapid +growth of three weeks could make it. As Julia had feared, he was dressed +in his favorite bagging pants, which hung loosely, even around his huge +proportions, and looked as if fitted to some of his outbuildings. He was +very warm and he wore neither coat nor vest, while his feet, whose +dimensions we have mentioned before, were minus either shoes or stockings. +He appeared in the doorway buttoning one of his suspenders. The truth was +he had spied the carriage in the distance, and as his linen was none the +cleanest he hastened to change, and was now putting the finishing touch to +his toilet. When he caught sight of the occupants of the carriage he +thought to himself, "Thar’s a heap on ’em. Nancy’ll have to rout the whole +gang of niggers, field hands and all, to huntin’ hin’s nests after eggs +enough for dinner." + +By this time the gentlemen had alighted, and Mr. Middleton went forward to +receive them. "How d’ye do, how d’ye do?" said he; "I’m mighty glad you’ve +come. I wish you’d brought the whole city." + +"We came pretty near it, I think," said Mr. Miller, at the same time +presenting Mr. Stafford and Mr. Cameron. + +Mr. Middleton continued talking, as if replying to Mr. Miller’s first +remark. "No consequence, no consequence, Mr. Stafford, Mr. Cameron, how +are you? The more the merrier. I s’pose they’ve told you all about Josh, +so I needn’t make b’lieve any—but come in—the house looks better inside +than it does out." "Ho, Luce," continued he, "where the old boy is your +mistress? Tell her thar’s heaps of folks here, and mind tell Aunt Judy to +get us up a whalin’ dinner." + +Here he stopped to take breath for a moment, and then proceeded. "You must +excuse my rig, gentlemen, or rather, you must excuse what ain’t rigged; +mebby if I’d known all you city buggers was comin’, I’d a kivered my bar +feet." + +"You go barefoot for comfort?" said Mr. Miller. + +"Why, yes, mainly for that, I suppose," answered Mr. Middleton, "for I’ve +got such fetchin’ big corns on my feet that I ain’t goin’ to be cramped +with none of your toggery. My feet happen to be clean, for I washed them +in the watering trough this mornin’. How d’ye leave my gals?" + +"They are well," answered Mr. Miller, "or rather Julia is, and Fanny is +improving every day." + +"I’ve often wondered," said Mr. Middleton, "what ’twas ailded Sunshine +when she was sick. She didn’t seem to have no disease in particular, and I +reckon nothin’s on her mind, for all’s straight between her and Dr. Lacey, +as far as I know." + +"Dr. Lacey!" repeated Frank, without knowing what he said. + +"Yes, Dr. Lacey; know him?" asked Mr. Middleton. + +"No, sir," answered Frank, and Ashton rejoined, "I imagine he wishes Fanny +had never known him." + +Mr. Middleton turned, and for a moment regarded Frank intently. Frank +stood the inspection manfully, and Mr. Middleton said, "You are from New +York, hey? I like New Yorkers, and if Sunshine wasn’t promised to Dr. +Lacey and never had seen him, and I liked you, I’d as soon you’d have her +as anybody." + +Mr. Stafford now said that he was acquainted with Dr. Lacey, and proceeded +to speak of the pleasant time he had spent with him. This occupied the +time until dinner was ready. + +"Come, haul up," said Mr. Middleton, "haul up; we didn’t expect so many to +dinner, but the old table’ll stretch and you must set clus; but don’t none +of you step on my corns, for thunder’s sake!" + +Frank thought if his host kept on talking he should not be able to eat for +laughing, but the old man was but just getting into the merits of the +case! + +When his guests were seated, he said to Mr. Stafford, "Your white neck +cloth looks like you might belong to the clergy. If you do, you can say a +short prayer over the eggs and bacon, but Lord’s sake be spry, for I’m +blarsted hungry!" + +But for the remembrance of his promise to Fanny, Mr. Stafford would have +screamed. It is needless to say that he declined his host’s invitation, +and the company began their dinner. + +Suddenly Mr. Stafford asked if Mr. Middleton had any brothers. + +"Yes—no, or, that is, I had one once," answered Mr. Middleton, "but he’s +deader than a door nail afore this, I reckon." + +"And what makes you think he is dead?" asked Stafford. + +"Why, you see," returned Mr. Middleton, "when our old pap died, something +in the will stuck crossways in Bill’s swaller, and he left college and put +to sea, and I hain’t heard from him in fifteen years." + +"Did he look like you?" said Raymond. + +"He was four years younger than I," answered Mr. Middleton, "but no more +like me than Sunshine’s pet kitten is like our old watch dog, Tige. He was +soft like in his ways and took to book larnin mightily, and I’m—but +everybody knows what old Josh is. Hold on thar! Save the pieces!" said he +to Frank, who, unable longer to restrain his mirth, had deluged his plate +with coffee. + +"Pray excuse me," said Frank, mortified beyond measure at his mishap. + +His discomfiture was, however, somewhat relieved by his companions, all of +whom burst into a fit of laughter, in which Mr. Stafford heartily joined, +forgetful of his promise to Fanny. By this time dinner was over and the +company repaired to the porch, where Ashton and Raymond betook themselves +to their cigars, while Mr. Middleton puffed away at his old cob pipe. + +Mr. Stafford at length resumed the dinner table conversation by saying, +"If I were you, Mr. Middleton, I would not give up my brother yet; ’Hope +on, hope ever,’ is my motto." + +"Hope on," repeated Mr. Middleton. "I have hoped on till I am tired on’t, +and by spells I have dreams in which it seems like my brother was alive +and had come back, and then my old gourd shell of a heart gives a +thunderin’ thump, and fetches me up wide awake. I hate dreams mightily, +for it takes me an all-fired while to get to sleep all over, and when I do +I hate to be waked up by a dream." + +"I hope you’ll live to see your brother, though," said Frank. + +"No, I shan’t," answered Mr. Middleton, again filling his cob pipe. +"Everything that I loved has always died." + +"Have you lost many friends?" asked Mr. Stafford. + +"Considerable many," said Mr. Middleton, "considering how few I ever had. +First, thar was mother died, when Bill and I was little boys; I remember +how we cried when we stood by her grave, and I was so feared Bill would +bust his jacket open that I whispered to him not to take on so, for I’d be +his mother now. And then that night, which was the longest and darkest I +ever knew, we took turn rocking and singing to our little baby sister, +just as we had seen mother do." + +Here he stopped a moment, and Raymond, who was rather impatient, said, +"Don’t stop; go on." + +The old man wiped his eyes, and said, "Heavens and arth, don’t hurry a +feller so; can’t you let him wait till the big bumps get out of his +throat, or would you have me bellerin’ here like a calf?" + +"Take your time, Mr. Middleton," said Mr. Stafford, who was as much +affected as his brother at the remembrance of that sad night, when he +first felt what it was to be motherless. + +After an instant, Mr. Middleton continued, "Directly that sister got big +enough, she was married and started to go to England, but the vessel went +to smash and the crew went to the bottom. Poor gal, she always hated salt, +but she’s used to it by this time, I reckon. Then there was pap died next, +but he was old and gray-headed, and sick-hearted like, and he wanted to +go, but it made it jest as bad for me. Then thar was Bill." + +Here Mr. Stafford moved his chair so as to hide his face from the speaker, +who continued, "I did think I might have one left, but ’twasn’t to be. He +went, too, and Josh was left alone." + +Mr. Middleton cleared his throat a little, refilled his cob pipe, and +proceeded. "The Lord gin me two gals, and then he sent me as noble a boy +as ever was, I don’t care where t’other comes from. He wasn’t mine, but I +loved him all the same. You, Mr. Miller, knew him, but you don’t know—no, +nor begin to know, how old Josh loved him, and what a tremendous wrench it +gin my old heart when I come home and found he was dead. But, Lord, hain’t +he got a fine gravestun, though! You go to the cimetery at Frankford, and +you’ll see it right along side of Leftenant Carrington’s, whose widow’s a +flirtin’ with everybody in creation anyway, and Frankford sartin." + +"I’ve now told you of all that’s dead," continued he, striking the ashes +out of his pipe and wiping it on his bagging trousers, "but I hain’t told +you yit what troubles me more than all. Thar’s something haunts old Josh, +and makes his heart stand still with mortal fear. Thar’s Sunshine, dearer +to her old pap than his own life. You’ve all seen her, and I reckon she’s +made some of your hearts ache; but something’s come over her. She seems +delicate like, and is fadin’ away." + +Here two big tears, that couldn’t be mistaken, rolled down Mr. Middleton’s +cheeks, as he added emphatically, "and by Jehu, if Sunshine goes, old +Josh’ll bust up and go, too!" + +The winding up of Uncle Joshua’s story was so odd and unexpected that all +the gentlemen, Mr. Stafford included, laughed loudly. + +"’Tain’t no laughin’ matter, boys," said Mr. Middleton, "and so you’ll all +think if you ever have a gal as sweet and lovin’ like as Sunshine." + +Here Mr. Stafford said, "Your sister’s name was Fanny, I believe." + +"Yes, ’twas; who told you?" asked Mr. Middleton. + +"No one. I knew it myself," answered Mr. Stafford, looking his brother +earnestly in the face. + +Mr. Middleton seemed puzzled, and after closely scrutinizing Mr. +Stafford’s features, he said, "Confound it, am I in a nightmare? I thought +for a minute—but no, it can’t be neither, for you’ve got too thunderin’ +black a hide to be Bill." + +Before Mr. Stafford replies to this remark we will take the reader to the +kitchen, where a group of negroes are assembled round old Aunt Katy, and +are listening with breathless interest to what she is saying. Aunt Katy +was so infirm that she kept her bed for the greater part of the time, but +on this day she was sitting-up, and from her low cabin window she caught a +view of the visitors as they alighted from the carriage. When Mr. Stafford +appeared, she half started from her chair and said aloud, "Who upon airth +can that be, and whar have I seen him? Somewhar, sartin." + +It then occurred to her that she would go to the kitchen and inquire who +"that tall, darkish-looking gentleman was." Accordingly she hobbled out to +make the inquiry. She was much disappointed when she heard the name. "No," +said she, "’tain’t nobody I ever knowed, and yet how like he is to +somebody I’ve seen." + +Not long after the old negress again muttered to herself, "Go way now; +what makes me keep a thinkin’ so of Marster William this mornin’? ’Pears +like he keeps hauntin’ me." Then rising she went to an old cupboard, and +took from it a cracked earthen teapot. From this teapot she drew a piece +of brown paper, and opening it gazed fondly on a little lock of soft brown +hair. + +"Bless the boy," said she, "I mind jest how he looked when I cut this har +from his head, the very day his mother was buried. Poor Marster William," +continued she, "most likely he’s gone to ’tarnity ’fore this time." + +As she said this tears, which were none the less sincere because she who +wept them belonged to Africa’s sable race, fell upon the once bright but +now faded lock of hair, which the faithful creature had for more than +forty years preserved as a memento of him whom she had long since looked +upon as dead, although she had never ceased to pray for him, and always +ended her accustomed prayer, "Now I lay me—" with the petition that "God +would take keer of Marster William and bring him home again." Who shall +say that the prayer was not answered? + +Going back to her seat, she took up her knitting and was soon living over +the past, when she was young and dwelt with "the old folks at home." +Suddenly there came from the house the sound of merry laughter. High above +all the rest was a voice, whose clear, ringing tones made Katy start up so +quickly that, as she afterward described it, "a sudden misery cotched her +in the back, and pulled her down quicker." There was something in the +sound of that laugh, which seemed to Katy like an echo of the past. "But," +thought she, "I’m deaf like and mebby didn’t hear straight. I’ll go to the +kitchen agin and hark." + +In a few minutes she was in the kitchen and dropping down on the meal +chest as the first seat handy, she said, "Ho, Judy, is you noticed the +strange gentleman’s laugh?" + +"I hain’t noticed nothing" answered Judy, who chanced to be out of sorts, +because, as she said, "the white folks had done et up every atom of egg; +they didn’t even leave her the yaller of one!" + +"Well, suthin in his laugh kerried me back to the old plantation in +Carlina, and I b’lieve, between you and me, Judy, that Marster William’s +here," said Katy. + +"Marster William, Marster William; what on airth do you mean?" asked Judy, +forgetting the eggs in her surprise. + +At the mention of "Marster William," who was looked upon as a great man, +but a dead one, the little negroes gathered around, and one of them, our +old friend, Bobaway, said, "Oh, Laddy, I hope ’tis Marster William, for +Marster Josh’ll be so tickled that he won’t keer if we don’t do nothin’ +for a week; and I needn’t milk the little heifer, nuther! Oh, good, good!" + +"You go long, you Bob," said Aunt Judy, seizing a lock of his wool between +her thumb and finger, "let me catch you not milking the heifer, and I’ll +crack you." + +Again there was the sound of laughter, and this time Judy dropped her +dishcloth, while Katy sprang up, saying, "’Tis, I know ’tis; any way, I’ll +walk round thar as if for a little airin’, and can see for myself." + +Accordingly, old Katy appeared around the corner of the house just as Mr. +Middleton had spoken to his brother of his color. The moment Mr. +Stafford’s eye rested on his old nurse, he knew her. Twenty years had not +changed her as much as it had him. Starting up he exclaimed, "Katy, dear +old mammy Katy," while she uttered a wild, exultant cry of joy, and +springing forward threw her thin, shriveled arms around his neck, +exclaiming, "My darling boy, my sweet Marster William. I knowed ’twas you. +I knowed your voice. You are alive, I’ve seen you, and now old Katy’s +ready to die." + +White as ashes grew the face of Uncle Joshua. The truth had flashed upon +him, and almost rendered him powerless. Pale and motionless he sat, until +William, freeing himself from Aunt Katy, came forward and said, "Joshua, I +am William, your brother; don’t you know me?" + +Then the floodgates of Uncle Joshua’s heart seemed unlocked, and the long, +fervent embrace which followed between the rough old man and his +newly-found brother made more than one of the lookers on turn away his +face lest his companion should detect the moisture in his eyes, which +seriously threatened to assume the form of tears. + +When the first joy and surprise of this unexpected meeting was over, Mr. +Joshua Middleton said, as if apologizing for his emotion, "I’m dumbly +afeard, Bill, that I acted mighty baby-like, but hang me if I could help +it. Such a day as this I never expected to see, and yet I have lain awake +o’ nights thinkin’ mebby you’d come back. But such ideas didn’t last long, +and I’d soon give you up as a goner." + +"That’s jest what I never did," said Aunt Katy, who still stood near. + +In the excitement of the moment she had forgotten that she had long +thought of "Marster William" as dead; she continued, "A heap of prars I +said for him, and it’s chiefly owin’ to them prars, I reckon, that he’s +done fished up out of the sea." + +"I’ve never been in the sea yet, Aunt Katy," said Mr. Middleton, desirous +of removing from her mind the fancy that any special miracle had been +wrought in his behalf. + +"Whar in fury have you been, and what’s the reason you hain’t writ these +dozen years? Come, give us the history of your carryin’s on," said Mr. +Joshua Middleton. + +"Not now," answered his brother. "Let us wait until evening, and then you +shall hear my adventures; now let me pay my respects to your wife." + +While he was introducing himself to Mrs. Middleton, Katy went back to the +kitchen, whither the news had preceded her, causing Bob in his joy to turn +several somersaults. In the last of these he was very unfortunate, for his +heels, in their descent, chanced to hit and overturn a churn full of +buttermilk! When Aunt Katy entered she found Bob bemoaning the backache, +which his mother had unsparingly given him! Aunt Judy herself, having +cleared away the buttermilk, by sweeping it out of doors, was waiting +eagerly to know "if Marster William done axed arter her." + +"Why, no, Judy," said Katy, somewhat elated because she had been first to +recognize and welcome the stranger. "Why, no, I can’t say he did, and +’tain’t nateral like that he should set so much store by you, as by me. +Ain’t I got twenty years the start on you; and didn’t I nuss him, and +arter his mother died didn’t I larn him all his manners?" + +Aunt Judy was on the point of crying, when who should walk in but "Marster +William" himself. "I am told," said he, "that Judy is here, Judy, that I +used to play with." + +"Lor’ bless you, Marster William," exclaimed Judy, at the same time +covering his hand with tears and kisses, "It’s Judy, I is, I know’d you +hadn’t done forgot me." + +"Oh, no, Judy," said he, "I have not forgotten one of you, but I did not +know whether you were living or not, so I did not bring you presents, but +I’ll get you something, in a few days. Meantime take this," said he, +slipping a silver dollar into the hands of Aunt Katy and Aunt Judy, each +of whom showered upon him so many blessings and "thankes" that he was glad +to leave the kitchen and return to his companions, who were talking to +Uncle Joshua without getting any definite answer. + +His brother’s sudden return had operated strangely upon him, and for a +time he seemed to be in a kind of trance. He would draw his chair up +closely to William, and, after gazing intently at him for a time, would +pass his large rough hand over his hair, muttering to himself, "Yes, it is +Bill, and no mistake, but who’d a thought it?" + +At last rousing himself he turned to his other guests, and said, "You +mustn’t think hard on me, if I ain’t as peart and talkin’ like for a +spell; Bill’s comin’ home has kinder oversot the old man, and I’m thinkin’ +of the past when we’s little boys and lived at home on pap’s old +plantation afore any of us was dead." + +The young gentlemen readily excused the old man’s silence, and when the +slanting beams of the setting sun betokened the approach of night, they +all, with the exception of Ashton, began to speak of returning home. Mr. +Middleton urged them to stay, saying, "What’s the use of goin’? Nancy’s +got beds enough, I reckon, and will be right glad of a chance to show her +new calico kiverlids, and besides we are goin’ to have some briled hen in +the morning, so stay." + +But as the next day was the Sabbath, the gentlemen declined the +invitation, and bidding the host "good-bye," they were soon on their way +homeward, each declaring that he had seldom spent a pleasanter day. As +they can undoubtedly find their way to Frankfort without our assistance, +we will remain at Uncle Joshua’s together with Mr. William Middleton and +Ashton. The latter felt as if he had suddenly found an old friend, and as +nothing of importance required his presence at home, he decided to remain +where he was until Monday. + +That evening, after everything was "put to rights" and Mr. Middleton had +yelled out his usual amount of orders, he returned to the porch, where his +brother and Ashton were still seated. Lighting his old cob pipe he said, +"Come, Bill, Nancy’ll fetch out her rockin’ cheer and knittin’ work, and +we’ll hear the story of your doin’s in that heathenish land, but be kinder +short, for pears like I’d lived a year today, and I feel mighty like goin’ +to sleep." + +After a moment’s silence Mr. Middleton commenced: "I shall not attempt to +justify myself for running away as I did, and yet I cannot say that I have +ever seriously regretted visiting those countries, which I probably shall +never look upon again. I think I wrote to you, Joshua, that I took passage +on the ship Santiago, which was bound for the East Indies. Never shall I +forget the feeling of loneliness which crept over me, on the night when I +first entered the city of Calcutta, and felt that I was indeed alone in a +foreign land, and that more than an ocean’s breadth rolled between me and +my childhood’s home. But it was worse than useless to dwell upon the past. +I had my fortune to make, and I began to look about for some employment. +At last I chanced to fall in with an intelligent Spaniard, Signor de +Castello. He was a wealthy merchant, and for several years had resided in +Calcutta. As he spoke the English language fluently, I found no trouble in +making his acquaintance. + +"He seemed pleased with me and offered me the situation of clerk in his +counting room. I accepted his offer, and also became an inmate of his +dwelling, which was adorned with every conceivable luxury. His family +consisted of himself and his daughter, Inez." + +At the mention of Inez, Ashton half started from his chair, but +immediately reseating himself, listened while Mr. Middleton proceeded: "I +will not attempt to describe Inez, for I am too old now to even feel young +again, by picturing to your imagination the beauty of that fair Spaniard. +I will only say that I never saw one, whose style of beauty would begin to +compare with hers, until I beheld my niece, Julia." + +"Lord knows, I hope she wan’t like Tempest," said Uncle Joshua, at the +same time relieving his mouth of its overflowing contents. + +"I do not know whether she were or not," answered Mr. Middleton, "I only +know that Inez seemed too beautiful, too gentle, for one to suspect that +treachery lurked beneath the soft glance of her dark eyes. I know not why +it was, but Castello, from the first seemed to entertain for me a strong +friendship, and at last I fully believe the affection he felt for me was +second only to what he felt for his daughter. But he could not remain with +us, and in eighteen months after I first knew him, he took one of the +fevers common to that sultry climate, and in the course of a few days he +was dead. I wrote to you of his death, but I did not tell you that he had +left a will, in which all his immense wealth was equally divided between +myself and Inez. He did not express his desire that we should marry, but I +understood it so, and thenceforth looked upon Inez as belonging +exclusively to myself." + +"You didn’t marry her, though, I take it," said Joshua, making a thrust at +an enormous mosquito, which had unceremoniously alighted upon his brawny +foot. + +"No," answered William, "I did not marry her, but ’twas not my fault. She +played me false. Six months after her father’s death we were to be +married. The evening previous to our wedding arrived. I was perfectly +happy, but Inez seemed low-spirited, and when I inquired the cause she +answered, ’Nothing, except a little nervous excitement.’ I readily +believed her; but when the morning came the cause of her low spirits was +explained. The bird had flown, with a young Englishman, Sir Arthur +Effingham, who had been a frequent guest at my house." + +"That was one of Tempest’s capers to a dot," said Uncle Joshua, "but go +on, Bill, and tell us whether the disappointment killed you or not." + +So William proceeded: "Instead of my bride, I found a note from Inez, in +which she asked pardon for what she had done, saying she had long loved +Sir Arthur, but did not dare tell me so. They were going to England, +whither she wished me to send a part of her portion, as her husband was +not wealthy. I could understand Inez’s character perfectly, and could +readily see that she preferred a titled but poor Englishman to a wealthy, +but plain American, so I gave her up quietly." + +"And was mighty glad to get shut of her so," interrupted Joshua. + +"From that time," continued William, "I gave up all thoughts of marriage, +and devoted myself to increasing my wealth, and spending it for my own +comfort and the good of others. Twelve years ago I chanced to go on board +the Delphine, and there I found Ashton." + +"Look at him, for gracious sake," said Uncle Joshua, pointing toward +Ashton. "Why man, you are as white as one of Judy’s biscuit; what ails +you?" + +"Nothing," answered Ashton, who really was much affected by Mr. +Middleton’s narrative; but he said, "I am only thinking of the long, weary +days I passed in the Delphine before Mr. Middleton kindly cared for me." + +This seemed quite natural, and Mr. Middleton continued: "Ashton was wasted +to a mere skeleton by ship fever, and my heart yearned toward him. Perhaps +I felt a stronger sympathy for him when I learned that he was an American. +He, like myself, had run away. The vessel, in which he had embarked, had +been wrecked, and he, with two others, were saved in a small boat. For +days they floated above the broad expanse of waters until at length the +Delphine picked them up, and brought them to India. I had Ashton removed +to my house, but as soon as he recovered, he took French leave of me. From +that time I lived alone. I wrote to you frequently, but got no answer. My +letters must have been lost, but I then concluded you were dead. At last I +began to have such an ardent desire to tread my native soil once more that +I disposed of my property and set out for home, so here I am and have told +you my history; what do you think of it?" + +There was no answer save the sound of heavy breathing; Uncle Joshua had +probably got to sleep "all over." The cessation of his brother’s voice +awoke him, and rubbing his eyes he said, "Yes, yes, Ashton had the ship +fever. I hope he can’t give it now, for I’m mortal feared on’t." + +Ashton assured him there was no danger, and then, turning to William, +said, "Have you ever heard from Inez?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Middleton. "About a year after her marriage I heard of the +birth of a daughter, whom she called Inez Middleton. I have heard of them +once or twice since, but not recently." + +After a moment’s silence Ashton, with some hesitation, said, "If I mistake +not, I know Inez Effingham well." + +"You know Inez, my Inez—where—how—tell me all," said Mr. Middleton, +grasping Ashton’s hand as if a new link suddenly added to the chain of +friendship which already bound them together. + +"You probably remember," said Ashton, "that when I left you so suddenly +there was an American vessel in port. I was anxious to return home, but +fancied you would oppose it, so I left without a word, and went on board +the ship. During the voyage, I found that one of the crew was from my +native town. I eagerly inquired after my parents and my little sister +Nellie, whom you so often heard me mention. Judge of my feelings when told +that they were all dead. In the agony of the moment, I attempted to throw +myself overboard, but was prevented. From that time all desire to return +was gone, and when at last we stopped at one of the ports in England, I +left the vessel to try my fortune in the mother country." + +"But Inez," said Mr. Middleton, "what of Inez?" + +"I will tell you," answered Ashton. "After remaining in England some years +I became acquainted with her father, Sir Arthur Effingham, who lived forty +miles from London. He invited me to visit his house and there I first saw +Inez and her mother. To know Inez was to love her, but I could not hope to +win the haughty Englishman’s daughter, and besides she was so young that I +did not believe I had made any impression upon her. But, encouraged by +Lady Effingham, I at length ventured to ask Inez of her father. I did not +wish to marry her then, as she was only fourteen, but her father spurned +me with contempt, and bade me never again enter his house. I obeyed, but +tried many times to procure an interview with Inez. I succeeded, and told +her I was about to leave England for America, but should never forget her. +I would not suffer her to bind herself to me by any promise, but expressed +my belief that at some future time she would be mine. It is three years +since we parted. I came immediately to America, but I could not bear to +return to my old home, and see it occupied by others, so I wandered this +way and at last settled in Frankfort as a merchant." + +Here he stopped and Mr. Middleton said, "You have not told me of the +mother. Does she still live?" + +Ashton answered, "She was living when I left England, but Inez has since +written me of her death." + +"That will do, Ashton; that will do. I do not wish to hear any more now," +said Mr. William. + +While Mr. Middleton and Ashton were relating their adventures, Aunt Katy +was busily engaged in superintending the arrangement of "Marster +William’s" sleeping room. Mrs. Middleton had bidden Judy to see that +everything was put in order, but Aunt Katy seemed to think nothing could +be done right unless she had an oversight of it. So she was walking back +and forth, consulting with Judy a little and ordering her a good deal. + +"Now, Judy," said she, "hain’t you no more idees of ilegance than to push +the bedstead smack up agin the clarbuds; just pull it out a foot or two, +as old Miss use to do." + +Judy complied with her request and she continued: "Lordy sakes—don’t Miss +Nancy know better than to put Marster William to sleep in such coarse +sheets," at the same time casting a rueful glance at the linens which Judy +had put upon the bed. "You set down, Judy," said Aunt Katy, "and I’ll tend +to the bed myself." + +So saying she hobbled off to her cabin and opening her "old red chist," +drew from it a pair of half-worn, but very fine linen sheets. These she +shook most lustily in order to free them from the rose leaves, lavender +sprigs and tobacco, which she had placed between their folds. With the +former she thought to perfume them, while the latter was put there for the +purpose of keeping out moths. The old creature had heard that tobacco was +good to keep moths from woolens, and she knew of no reason why it would +not answer every purpose for linen. + +"Thar," said she, on returning to the house, "these begins to look a +little like Marster William. They was gin to me by old marster, jest afore +he died. They ’longed to old Miss, and if any one on us could read, I +reckon we should find her name on ’em somewhar writ in brawdery." + +When the bed and room were adjusted to her satisfaction, she went down to +the kitchen and took a seat there. Here Aunt Judy found her about ten +o’clock that night. + +"What on airth you sittin’ here for?" said she. + +"Oh, I’s only waitin’ till Marster William gets a little used to his room +afore I axes him how he likes it and does he want anything." + +Accordingly, not long after, Aunt Katy stole upstairs and opening the door +called out, "Ho, Marster William, does you want anything, and is you got +enough kiver?" + +But "Marster William’s" senses were too soundly locked in sleep to heed +the faithful creature, and after standing still a moment, she said to +herself, "I’m mighty feared he’ll cotch cold." + +So back she went to her cabin and from the same "red chist" took a +many-colored patchwork quilt. This she carried to the house and spread +carefully over Mr. Middleton, saying, "He won’t be none too comfortable, +and in the mornin’ he’ll see it, and I’ll tell him I done pieced and +quilted it my own self." + +The consequence of this extra covering was that Mr. Middleton awoke in the +night with the impression that he was being suffocated in the hot climate +of Calcutta! He did not know that she, to whom he was indebted for his +warm berth, was now sleeping quietly and dreaming "how tickled Marster +William would be when he knew she had lent him her spare sheets and +bedquilt!" + + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + + FANNY REFUSES TO GO TO NEW ORLEANS + + +The next day was the Sabbath. Contrary to their usual custom on such +mornings, Mr. Middleton and his negroes were astir at an early hour. The +female portion of the latter were occupied in preparing a great breakfast +in honor of "Marster William’s" arrival, while Mr. Middleton busied +himself in removing a part of his dark, heavy beard. + +When William made his appearance in the sitting room, he was greeted by +his brother with, "How are you, Bill? Hope you slept better than I did, +for ’pears like I couldn’t get asleep nohow, till toward mornin’ and then +I was mighty skeary about wakin’ up, for fear I should find it all +moonshine, and no Bill here after all." After a moment’s pause, he added, +"Whar’s t’other chap? If he don’t come down directly, the hen’ll spile, +for Judy’s had it ready better than half an hour." + +Ashton soon appeared, and the party did ample justice to Aunt Judy’s +well-cooked breakfast. That meal being over, Mr. Middleton said, "Now, +boys, what do you say to goin’ to meetin’? The Baptists have preachin’, +and I’ve a mind to go. How the folk’ll stare though to see Bill. Say, will +you go?" + +The gentlemen signified their assent, and at the usual hour they proceeded +to the church, which was situated about two miles from Mr. Middleton’s. We +are sorry for it, but truth compels us to say that on this day Uncle +Joshua was not quite as devotional as usual. He was looking over the +congregation to see what effect his brother’s presence was producing. When +he saw that no one exclaimed or turned pale, and that even the minister +kept on the even tenor of his discourse, he inwardly accused them all of +being "doughheads," and wondered he had never before discovered how little +they knew. However, when meeting was over, the neighbors crowded around +the old man, congratulating him on the unexpected return of his brother, +whom they welcomed so warmly that Uncle Joshua began to think he had been +too hasty in condemning them, for "after all, they knew a heap." + +That night, after supper, Mr. Middleton was again seated in the little +porch with his guests. They had been speaking of the sermon they had +heard, when Mr. Middleton said, "That’s the right kind of meetin’ to my +notion. A feller can sleep a bit if he feels like it; but whar my gals go, +in Frankford, they have the queerest doin’s—keep a gittin’ up and sittin’ +down; ’pears like you don’t moren’t git fairly sot afore you have to hist +up again, and you can’t sleep to save you. Then they have streaked yaller +and black prar books and keep a-readin’ all meetin’ time." + +"Do your daughters prefer that church?" asked William. + +"Why, yes," returned his brother; "or, that is, Dick, poor boy Dick, +belonged thar; so did the young Leftenant Carrington; so does Dr. Lacey; +and that’s reason enough why Sunshine should prefer it. Tempest goes thar, +I reckon, because its fashionable, and she can have a nice prar-book to +show. You ought to see the one I bought for Sunshine. It’s all velvety, +and has gold clasps, with jest the word ’Sunshine’ writ on it. Tempest has +got a more common one. It didn’t cost half as much." + +"I notice that you make quite a distinction between your daughters," said +William. "May I ask why you do it?" + +Mr. Middleton stopped smoking and said, "If you please, Bill, I’d rather +say nothin’ about that now. I make it a rule never to swar Sundays, and if +I got to goin’ it about Tempest and the way she used poor Dick, I should +have to swar and no mistake. Mebby you think I’d better not swar any +time." + +"Yes," answered William; "I should be glad if you would not. It is a bad +habit, and I wish you would discontinue it." + +"Well now, Bill," said Mr. Middleton, "Lord knows—no, I mean I know I’ve +tried a heap of times to break off, and now I’ll try again. I’ll not cuss +a word till I forget. Dick used to want me to stop, and when he died I +promised myself I would; but the pigs and horses got into the corn, and +fust I knew I was swarin’ wus than ever. I wish you had seen Dick; it +can’t be; he’s gone forever." + +"Have you no daguerreotype of him?" asked William. + +"No, I hain’t, but his folks have; and Mr. Miller and Kate are going home +this summer, and they’ll fetch me one. That makes me think Sunshine is so +puny and sick like, that I’m goin’ to let her go North with them. It’ll do +her good; and I’m going to buy her four silk gowns to go with, but for +Lord’s—no, for land’s sake don’t tell Tempest." + +"I hope you are not very anxious to have Fanny go North," said William; +"for it will seriously affect a plan which I have formed." + +"Well, what is it?" asked Mr. Middleton. + +William then told of the house he had purchased, and of his intention to +take both his nieces back with him. "I know," said he, "that it seems +strange to take them there in hot weather; but down by the lake it will be +pleasant and cool, and I must have them with me." + +"Have you said anything to them about it?" asked Mr. Middleton. + +"Yes," answered his brother. "I have mentioned it to them." + +"What did they say?" + +"Fanny said nothing, but Julia seemed much pleased with the idea," said +William. + +"I’ll warrant that," returned Mr. Middleton. "She’s tickled enough, and in +her own mind she’s run up a bill agin me for at least five hundred. +Sunshine is so modest, I s’pose, because Dr. Lacey will be there, that she +does not want to seem very glad; but she’ll go. I’ll have them come home +tomorrow, and will talk the matter over. I’d as soon have her go to New +Orleans as to New York." + +Here the conversation was interrupted by Mrs. Middleton, who came to tell +her husband that it was past nine. Mr. Middleton had a great horror of +being up after that hour, so he hastily bade his brother and Ashton good +night, saying to the former, "Now I’ve got kind of used to your being +alive, Bill, I hope I shan’t have such pesky work goin’ to sleep." + +Next morning Ashton returned to Frankfort in the carriage which Mr. +Middleton had sent for the purpose of bringing his daughters home. For +once in her life, Julia was delighted with the idea of visiting her +parents. She had learned from a note which her mother had written that the +reason of their being sent for was to talk over the matter of going to New +Orleans. Fanny felt differently. She wished, yet dreaded, to go home. She +too knew why they were sent for; and as she was determined not to go to +New Orleans, it would be necessary at last to tell her father the true +reason. She was certain he would be unsparing in his wrath against Dr. +Lacey, and she almost trembled for the consequences. + +When at last she was ready she descended to the parlor, and sitting down +to her piano ran her fingers lightly over the keys. At that moment Frank +Cameron entered. He had learned from his cousin, Kate, enough of Fanny’s +history to make him fear that she never could be aught to him; and yet the +knowledge that he could not, must not, hope to win her, only rendered the +attraction stronger. He was intending to start for home the next day, and +had now come to spend a few minutes alone with Fanny ere he bade her +good-by. As he entered the room she ceased playing, and said, "I believe +you leave town tomorrow, do you not?" + +"I do," replied Frank, "and am come to bid you good-by now; for when you +return I shall probably be looking on the dust, smoke and chimneys of the +Empire City." As Fanny made no answer, Frank continued, "Miss Middleton, +we shall meet again, I trust. Kate tells me that you are to accompany them +to New York this summer. I shall expect you and shall watch anxiously for +your coming." + +Fanny replied, "I have thought of going North with Mrs. Miller, but it is +possible I may be disappointed." + +"Disappointed!" repeated Frank; "you must not be disappointed, or +disappoint me either. I would hardly be willing to leave Frankfort if I +did not hope to see you again. And yet if we never do meet, I shall know +that I am a better man for having once seen and known you; and I shall +look back upon the few days spent in Kentucky as upon one of the bright +spots in my life." + +We do not know what Fanny would have replied; for ere she had time to +answer Julia appeared in the door, calling out, "Come, Fan, the carriage +is ready. But, pray excuse me," continued she, as she saw Frank, "I had no +idea that I was interrupting so interesting a conversation as your looks +seem to indicate." + +This increased Fanny’s confusion, but she endeavored to appear at ease; +and rising up, she offered Frank her hand, saying, "I must bid you +farewell, Mr. Cameron." + +Frank took her hand, and quick as thought raised it to his lips. Fanny’s +cheeks reddened as she hastily withdrew her hand, saying rather +indignantly, "Mr. Cameron, I am surprised!" + +Frank expected as much, and he said, rather gayly, "Pardon me, Miss +Middleton, I could not help it, and would not if I could. It is all I ever +hope to receive from you; and years hence, when I am a lone, lorn old +bachelor, I shall love to think of the morning when I bade good-by to and +kissed Fanny Middleton." + +A moment more and the carriage drove rapidly away. Frank watched it until +it disappeared down the street; then turning away, he thought, "I have met +and parted with the only person on earth who has power to awaken in me any +deeper feeling than that of respect." + +When Julia and Fanny reached home, they were greeted kindly by both their +parents and uncle. The latter had resolved to watch them closely, in order +to ascertain, if possible, the reason of his brother’s evident preference +for Fanny. During the morning nothing was said of the projected visit to +New Orleans; and Julia was becoming very impatient, but she knew better +than to broach the subject herself; so she was obliged to wait. + +That evening the family, as usual, assembled on the little porch. Fanny +occupied her accustomed seat and low stool by the side of her father, +whose pipe she filled and refilled; for he said, "The tobacker tasted a +heap better after Sunshine had handled it." + +Julia could wait no longer, and she began the conversation by asking her +uncle something about New Orleans. + +"Thar, I knew ’twould be so," said Mr. Middleton; "Tempest is in a desput +hurry to know whether I’m going to cash over and send her to market in New +Orleans." + +"Well, father," said Julia, coaxingly, "you are going to let Fanny and me +go with Uncle William I know." + +It was lucky for Julia that she chanced to mention her sister; for however +much her father might be inclined to tease her, the word "Fanny" mollified +him at once, and he answered, "Why, yes, I may as well let you go as to +keep you here doing nothing, and eating up my corn bread." Then drawing +Fanny nearer to him, he said, "I’ve talked some of letting Sunshine go to +New York, but she’ll jump at the chance of going to New Orleans, I +reckon." + +There was no answer, and as Julia was not particularly desirous of having +her sister’s silence questioned, she rattled on about her expected visit, +and even went so far as to caress her father, because he had given his +consent to her going. It was decided that Mr. William Middleton should +return, as he had intended, in two weeks’ time, so as to have everything +in readiness for the reception of his nieces, who were to come on as soon +as school closed, which would be about the tenth of June. + +During all this time Fanny said not a word; and at last it occurred to her +father that she had neither expressed her desire nor willingness to go; so +he said, "Come, Sunshine, why don’t you hold up your head and talk about +it? We all know you want to go mightily, and see that little doctor." + +Fanny knew it was of no use delaying longer and she answered gently, but +decidedly, "Father, I have no desire to go to New Orleans. I cannot go." + +"Fudge on being so very modest," replied Mr. Middleton. "It is +nateral-like that you should want to see him, and nobody’ll think less of +you." + +Fanny answered, "You know I have thought of going to New York with Mr. and +Mrs. Miller. I am still anxious to do so; but to New Orleans I cannot, +shall not go, unless you command me to do so." + +"Saint Peter!" said Mr. Middleton. "What’s the row now? What’s happened to +make little Sunshine spirt up so? Don’t you want to see Dr. Lacey, child?" + +"No, father; I never desire to see him again." + +The old cob pipe dropped from Mr. Middleton’s mouth, and springing up, he +confronted Fanny, saying, "What in fury is this racket? You not wish to go +to New Orleans, or see Dr. Lacey either! I half wish you was Tempest for a +spell, so I could storm at you; but as it is Sunshine, I can’t even feel +mad." + +"Oh, father, father!" cried Fanny, weeping; "if you knew all that has +occurred, you would not blame me." + +"What do you mean, darling?" asked Mr. Middleton, suddenly becoming cool. +"What has happened?" + +Then looking at Julia, whose face was crimson, a new idea struck him, and +he exclaimed more wrathfully, "How now, Tempest? What makes you turn as +red as a hickory fire? Have you been raising a rumpus between Dr. Lacey +and Sunshine? Out with it if you have." + +It was now Julia’s turn to cry and appeal to her uncle, if it were not +unjust in her father always to suspect her of evil, if anything were +wrong. William very wisely kept silent, but Fanny said, "Do not accuse +Julia, for she is not guilty. She knows it all, however, and is sorry for +it." + +"Knows what? Sorry for what? Why don’t you tell?" said Mr. Middleton, +stalking back and forth through the porch, and setting down his feet as +heavily as if he would crush everything which might fall beneath his +tread. + +"I cannot tell you now," said Fanny; "but when we are alone, you shall +know all." + +In a few moments William thought proper to retire, and as his example was +soon followed by Julia, Fanny was left alone with her parents. Drawing her +stool nearer to her father, and laying her hot, feverish forehead on his +hand, she said, "Before I give any explanation, I wish you to make me a +promise." + +"Promise of what?" asked her father and mother, simultaneously. + +"It is not probable," answered Fanny, "that you will ever see Dr. Lacey +again, but if you do, I wish you never to mention to him what I am about +to tell you." + +The promise was readily given by Mrs. Middleton, but her husband demurred, +saying, "I shan’t commit myself until I know what ’tis. If Dr. Lacey has +been cuttin’ up, why I’ll cowhide him, that’s all." + +"Then I shall not tell you," was Fanny’s firm reply. + +Her father saw she was in earnest, and replied, "What’s got your back up +so high, Sunshine? I never knew you had so much grit. What’s the reason +you don’t want Dr. Lacey to hear of it?" + +"Because," said Fanny, hesitatingly, "because I do not wish him to know +how much I care about it; and besides, it can do no possible good. Now, +father, promise you will not tell him or any one else." + +Mr. Middleton was finally persuaded, and his promise given, Fanny knew it +would not be broken, for her father prided himself on keeping his word. So +she gave an account of Dr. Lacey’s conduct, and ended her narrative by +producing a letter, which she supposed came from him. Up to the moment Mr. +Middleton had sat perfectly still; but meantime his wrath had waxed warmer +and warmer, until at last it could no longer be restrained, but burst +forth in such a storm of fury as made Fanny stop her ears. + +She, however, caught the words, "And I was fool enough to promise not to +say a word. Well, thank the Lord, I didn’t promise not to shoot the puppy. +Let me catch him within pistol shot of me, and I’ll pop him over as I +would a woodchuck. And if he don’t come back, I’ll go all the way to New +Orleans for the sake of doin’ on’t. I’ll larn him to fool with my gal; +yes, I will!" + +Fanny’s fears for Dr. Lacey’s safety were immediately roused; and again +were her arms wound round the neck of her enraged father, while she begged +of him to be quiet, and think reasonably of the matter. Not long could one +resist the arguments of Fanny; and in less than half an hour her father +grew calm, and said more gently, "I shouldn’t have been so rarin’ mad, if +it had been anybody but you, Sunshine. I s’pose I did go on high, and swar +like a pirate. I didn’t mean to do that, for I promised Bill I’d try and +leave off." + +"Leave swearing?" said Fanny. "Oh, I’m so glad. I hope you will. Now +promise that you will, dear father, and say again that you will not +mention Dr. Lacey’s conduct either to him or to any one else." + +"I have promised once," said Mr. Middleton, "and one promise is as good as +forty. Old Josh’ll never break his word as long as he has his senses. But +that paltry doctor owes his life to you, Sunshine. Half an hour ago I was +as fully set to knock him over as I am now determined to let the varmint +go to destruction in his own way." + +Fanny shuddered at the idea of her father becoming the murderer of Dr. +Lacey, and Mrs. Middleton rejoined, "I am glad, husband, to hear you talk +more sensibly. It can do no possible good for you to shoot Dr. Lacey, and +then lose your own life, as you assuredly would; besides, I think the less +we say of the matter, the better it will be." + +"I reckon you are right, Nancy," said Mr. Middleton; "but hang it all, +what excuse shall I give Bill for not lettin’ the gals go to New Orleans?" + +"But, father," said Fanny, "you will let Julia go, of course. Uncle knows +I do not intend to go, and consequently will think nothing of that; and +there is no reason why Julia should not go to New Orleans, and I to New +York. Now, say we may; that’s a dear father." + +"I s’pose I’ll have to, honey," answered Mr. Middleton; "but if I can see +ahead an inch, you’re bitin’ your own nose off by sending Tempest to New +Orleans without you." + +Afterward Fanny remembered this speech, and understood it, too; but now +she was prevented from giving it a thought by her father, who continued, +"Doesn’t that Cameron chap live some’us in New York?" + +There was no reason for it, but Fanny blushed deeply as she replied, "Yes, +sir; Mr. Cameron lives in New York City; but I am not going to see him." + +"Mebby not," answered her father; "but my name ain’t Josh if he won’t be +on the lookout for you. And ’twixt us, darling, now the doctor’s sarved +you such a scaly trick, I shouldn’t pitch and drive much if I heard that +you and Cameron were on good terms." + +"That will never, never be," answered Fanny. "I shall always live at home +with you and mother." + +"You are a blessed daughter," said Mr. Middleton, "and I hope there’s +better fortin in store for you than to stay hived up with us two old +crones; and I can’t help thinkin’ that you’ll have Dr. Lacey yet, or +somebody a heap better. Now go to bed, child, for your eyes are gettin’ +red like, and heavy." + +Fanny obeyed and retired to her room, where she found Julia sitting up and +waiting for her. As soon as Fanny appeared she began, "Fan, you are a real +good girl. I was pleased to hear you talk. Nobody but you could have done +anything with the old heathen." + +"What are you talking about?" asked Fanny. + +"Why," said Julia, "I had my head out of the window, listening all the +time, and overheard what you said. Once I trembled for fear father would +take it into his head not to let me go any way; but you fixed it all +right, and I thank you for it." As Fanny made no answer, Julia continued, +"I heard, too, all about Frank Cameron. Now, Fan, I know he admires you, +and I really hope you’ll not be silly enough to discourage him. I shall +expect you to write that you have become Mrs. Cameron." + +"Will you please, Julia, say no more on that subject," said Fanny. "I do +not suppose Frank Cameron has any particular regard for me; if he has it +will do no good." + +Thus the conversation ended for that night. The next day Mr. William +Middleton was informed that Julia would spend the summer in New Orleans, +but that Fanny preferred going North. He was rather disappointed. His +preference, if any he had, was for Fanny. She was so quiet, so gentle, he +could not help loving her; but Julia puzzled him. There was a certain bold +assurance in her manner which he disliked. Besides, he could not help +fearing there was some good reason why her father censured her so much. "I +will watch her closely," thought he, "and if possible, discover her faults +and help her correct them." + +It would seem that Julia suspected her uncle’s intentions, for she +intended to be very correct and amiable in her deportment, whenever he was +present. Thought she, "I will thus retain his good opinion; and by so +doing I shall more easily win Dr. Lacey’s regard." + +In the course of a few days Fanny and Julia returned to school; the one, +elated with the prospect of going to New Orleans, and the other, quietly +anticipating a pleasant but rather sad journey to New York. Two weeks +after their return to Frankfort their uncle called upon them on his way +South. He again repeated his invitation that Stanton and Ashton would +spend a part of the summer with him. Ashton consented, but Stanton still +pleaded his important business North, and his excuse was considered a +sufficient one. + +Mrs. Carrington, who had become rather weary of Raymond’s attentions and +was longing for a change of place and scene, now tried by every possible +maneuver to induce Mr. Middleton to invite her also. Julia readily +understood her; and as she feared Mrs. Carrington’s presence would +frustrate her plans, she resolutely determined that she should not be +invited. Consequently, when that lady talked to Mr. Middleton of New +Orleans, and the desire she had of again visiting that city, Julia would +adroitly change the conversation to some other subject; and once when Mr. +Middleton had actually opened his mouth and commenced giving the desired +invitation, Julia, as if suddenly recollecting herself, started up, +saying, "Excuse me, uncle, but I have a painting in my room which I wish +you to see. Pray, come with me now, for I cannot bring it down, and as it +is getting dark, there is no time to be lost." + +Mr. Middleton arose and followed his niece, who congratulated herself on +the success of her stratagem. After reaching her room, and exhibiting her +painting, she said to her uncle, "I do hope you will not ask Mrs. +Carrington to go to New Orleans this summer." + +"Why not?" said Mr. Middleton. "She seems anxious that I should do so." + +"I know it," answered Julia; "but I am afraid she is not a good woman. At +least she had a bad influence over me, and I always feel wicked after +being with her awhile." + +As Julia had supposed, this had the desired effect. Mr. Middleton would +not ask one to visit him whose influence over his niece was bad. +Consequently, all Mrs. Carrington’s hints were unnoticed or misunderstood. +She, however, knew tolerably well to whom she was indebted for the slight; +and when, after Mr. Middleton’s departure, Julia said to her, "I wonder +uncle did not invite you, too; I thought he was going to do so," she +replied, rather sharply, "I fancy I should have been under no obligations +to you, Miss Julia, if I had received an invitation." Then turning, she +hastily entered her room, and throwing herself upon the sofa, she tried to +devise some scheme by which she could undermine Julia, provided Dr. Lacey +should show her any marked attention. + +Mrs. Carrington was not in a very enviable mood. The night before Raymond +had offered her his heart and hand, and of course had been rejected. He +was in the parlor when Julia so abruptly took her uncle away. As there was +no one present besides Mrs. Carrington, he seized upon that moment to +declare his love. It is impossible to describe the loathing and contempt +which she pretended to feel for him who sued so earnestly for her hand, +even if her heart did not accompany it. Nothing daunted by her haughty +refusal, Raymond arose, and standing proudly before the indignant lady +said, "Ida Carrington, however much dislike you may pretend to feel for me +I do not believe it. I know I am not wholly disagreeable to you, and were +I possessed of thousands, you would gladly seize the golden bait. I do not +ask you to love me, for it is not in your nature to love anything. You are +ambitious, and even now are dreaming of one whom you will never win; for +just as sure as yon sun shall set again, so sure you, proud lady, shall +one day be my wife." + +When Mrs. Carrington had recovered a little from the surprise into which +Raymond’s fiery speech had thrown her, he was gone and she was alone. +"Impudent puppy!" said she; "and yet he was right in saying he was not +disagreeable to me. But I’ll never be his wife. I’d die first!" Still, do +what she would, a feeling haunted her that Raymond’s prediction would +prove true. Perhaps it was this which made her so determined to supplant +Julia in Dr. Lacey’s good opinion, should he ever presume to think +favorably of her. How she succeeded we shall see hereafter. + + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + + FANNY MIDDLETON ARRIVES IN NEW YORK + + +Three weeks after Mr. Middleton’s departure for New Orleans, Mr. Miller’s +school closed. Uncle Joshua was present at the examination, and +congratulated himself much because he did not feel at all "stuck up" at +seeing both Julia and Fanny acquit themselves so creditably. After the +exercises were concluded, he returned with Mr. Miller to Mrs. Crane’s. +Just before he started for home he drew from his sheepskin pocketbook five +hundred dollars, which he divided equally between his daughters, saying, +"Here, gals, I reckon this will be enough to pay for all the furbelows +you’ve bought or will want to buy. I’ll leave you here the rest of the +week to see to fixin’ up your rig, but Saturday I shall send for you." + +Fanny was surprised at her father’s unlooked-for generosity, and thanked +him again and again. Julia was silent, but her face told how vexed and +disappointed she was. As soon as her father was gone, her rage burst +forth. "Stingy old thing," said she, "and yet he thinks he’s done +something wonderful. Why, my bill at C——’s already amounts to two hundred, +and I want as much more. What I am to do, I don’t know." + +She would have said more, but Fanny quieted her by saying, "Don’t talk so +about father, Julia. It was very liberal, and really I do not know what to +do with all mine." + +But we will not continue this conversation. Suffice it to say that when +Julia retired that night, her own money was safe in her purse, and by the +side of it lay the hundred dollars she had coaxed from Fanny. As they were +preparing to return home on Saturday, Julia said to her sister, "Fan, +don’t let father know that you gave me a hundred dollars, for I fear all +your powers of persuasion would be of no avail to stay the storm he would +consider it his bounden duty to raise." + +There was no need of this caution, for Fanny was not one to do a generous +act, and then boast of it, neither did her father ask her how she had +disposed of her money. He was satisfied to know that the "four silk gowns" +were purchased, as, in his estimation they constituted the essential part +of a young lady’s wardrobe. + +Since Fanny had disclosed the heartless desertion of Dr. Lacey, she seemed +to be doubly dear to her father; for pity now mingled with the intense +love he always had for his youngest and best-loved daughter. Often during +the last three days she passed at home prior to her departure for New +York, he would sit and gaze fondly upon her until the tears would blind +his vision, then springing up, he would pace the floor, impetuously +muttering, "The scamp—the vagabond—but he’ll get his pay fast enough—and +I’d pay him, too, if I hadn’t promised not to. But ’tain’t worth a while, +for I reckon ’twould only make her face grow whiter and thinner if I did +anything." + +At length the morning came on which Julia and Fanny were to leave for the +first time their native state. Side by side near the landing at Frankfort +lay the two boats, Blue Wing and Diana. The one was to bear Fanny on her +Northern tour, and the other would convey Julia as far as Louisville on +her way South. Mr. Woodburn, who had business in New Orleans, was to take +Julia under his protection. + +And now but a short time remained ere the Diana would loose her moorings +and be under way. These few moments were moments of sorrow to Mr. and Mrs. +Middleton, who had accompanied their daughters to Frankfort. Uncle Joshua +particularly was much depressed, and scarce took his eyes from his +treasure, who might be leaving him forever. In his estimation the far-off +North was a barren, chilly region, and although he did not quite believe +his Fanny would be frozen to death, he could not rid himself of the fear +that something would befall her. + +"You’ll take good keer of her, won’t you, Miller?" said he, "and bring her +safely back to us?" + +Mr. Miller gave the promise, and then observing that there was something +else on Mr. Middleton’s mind, he said, "What is it, Mr. Middleton? What +more do you wish to say?" + +Mr. Middleton struggled hard with his feelings, and his voice sank to a +whisper as he answered, "I wanted to tell you that if—if she should die, +bring her home—bring her back; don’t leave her there all alone." + +The old man could say no more, for the bell rang out its last warning. The +parting between Fanny and her parents was a sad one, and even Julia wept +as she kissed her sister, and thought it might be for the last time. + +Soon after the Diana, with its precious freight disappeared from view, Mr. +Middleton was called upon to bid another farewell to his eldest daughter. +"Reckon the old fellow likes one girl better than the other," said a +bystander, who had witnessed both partings. And yet Mr. Middleton did +well, and his look and manner was very affectionate as he bade Julia +good-bye, and charged her "not to be giddy and act like a fool, nor try to +come it over Dr. Lacey." "Though," thought he, "it’ll be sarvin the rascal +right if he should have to live with Tempest all his life." + +It is not our intention at present to follow Julia in her passage to New +Orleans. In another chapter we will take up the subject, and narrate her +adventures. Now we prefer going North with the other party, which +consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Miller, Fanny and Raymond. The latter had, in a +fit of desperation, determined to quit Frankfort, and go no one knew +whither. He accompanied his friends as far as Cincinnati, and there bade +them adieu, saying that they would hear of him again in a way they little +dreamed of. + +Mr. Miller was sorry to part with one who had proved so valuable an +assistant in his school, but all his arguments had failed and he was +obliged to give him up, saying, "I hope, Raymond, that all your laudable +enterprises may be successful." + +"I shall succeed," were Raymond’s emphatic words; "and she, the haughty +woman, who tried to smile so scornfully when I bade her farewell, will yet +be proud to say she has had a smile from me, a poor school master." + +"Well, Raymond," said Mr. Miller, "you have my good wishes, and if you +ever run for President, I’ll vote for you. So now good-by." + +Raymond rung his friend’s hand, and then stepped from the cars, which soon +rolled heavily from the depot. Faster and faster sped the train on its +pathway over streamlet and valley, meadow and woodland, until at last the +Queen City, with its numerous spires, was left far behind. From the car +windows Fanny watched the long blue line of hills, which marks the +Kentucky shore, until they, too, disappeared from view. + +For a time now we will leave her to the tender mercies of the Ohio +railroad, and a Lake Erie steamer, and hurrying on in advance, we will +introduce the reader to the home where once had sported Richard Wilmot and +his sister Kate. It stood about a half a mile from the pleasant rural +village of C——, in the eastern part of New York. The house was large and +handsome, and had about it an air of thrift and neatness, which showed its +owner to be a farmer, who not only understood his business, but also +attended to it himself. Between the house and the road was a large grassy +lawn, on which was growing many a tall, stately maple and elm, under whose +wide-spreading branches Kate and her brother had often played during the +gladsome days of their childhood. A long piazza ran around two sides of +the building. Upon this piazza the family sitting room opened. + +Could we have entered that sitting room the day on which our travelers +arrived, we should have seen a fine-looking, middle-aged lady, whose form +and features would instantly have convinced us that we looked upon the +mother of Kate. Yes, what Kate Miller is now, her mother was once; but +time and sorrow have made inroads upon her dazzling beauty, and here and +there the once bright locks of auburn are now silvered over, and across +the high white brow are drawn many deep-cut lines. Since Kate last saw her +mother, these lines have increased, for the bursting heart has swelled +with anguish, and the dark eye has wept bitter tears for the son who died +far away from his childhood’s home. Even now the remembrance of the noble +youth, who scarce two years ago, left her full of life and health, makes +the tear drop start as she says aloud, "How can I welcome back my darling +Kate, and know that he will never come again!" + +The sound of her voice aroused old Hector, the watchdog, who had been +lying in the sun upon the piazza. Stretching his huge limbs and shaking +his shaggy sides, he stalked into the sitting room, and going up to his +mistress laid his head caressingly in her lap. The sight of Hector made +Mrs. Wilmot’s tears flow afresh, for during many years he had been the +faithful companion of Richard, whose long absence he seemed seriously to +mourn. For days and weeks he had watched by the gate, through which he had +seen his young master pass, and when at last the darkness of night forbade +a longer watch, he would lay his head on the ground and give vent to his +evident disappointment in a low, mournful howl. + +Mrs. Wilmot was not superstitious; but when, day after day, the same sad +cry was repeated, it became to her an omen of coming evil; and thus the +shock of her son’s death, though none the less painful, was not quite as +great as it would otherwise have been. For Kate, too, old Hector had wept, +but not so long or so mournfully; still he remembered her, and always +evinced his joy whenever her name was spoken. + +On the morning of the day on which she was expected home, a boy who had +lived in the family when she went away, called Hector to him, and +endeavored, by showing him some garment which Kate had worn and by +repeating her name, to make him understand that she was coming home. We +will not say that Hector understood him, but we know that during the day +he never for a moment left the house or yard, but lay upon the piazza, +looking eagerly toward the road which led from the village. Whenever he +saw a carriage coming, he would start up and gaze wistfully at it until it +had passed, then he would again lie down and resume his watch. Mrs. Wilmot +noticed this, and when Hector, as we have seen, walked up to her and +looked so sympathizingly in her face, she patted his head, saying, "Poor +Hector; you will see Kate at least today." + +Nor was she mistaken, for about three that afternoon, an omnibus drew up +before the gate. Kate immediately sprang out, and was followed by Mr. +Miller and Fanny. Their arrival was first made known to Mrs. Wilmot by the +cry of joy which Hector sent forth at sight of Kate. With lightning speed +he bounded over the lawn to meet the travelers. Fanny, who was accustomed +to the savage watchdogs of Kentucky, sprang back in terror and clung to +Mr. Miller for protection; but Kate cried out, "Do not fear; it is only +Hector, and he wouldn’t harm you for the world." Then she ran forward to +meet him, and embraced him as fondly as though he had really been a human +being, and understood and appreciated it all. And he did seem to, for +after caressing Kate, he looked about as if in quest of the missing one. +Gradually he seemed to become convinced that Richard was not there; again +was heard the old wailing howl; but this time it was more prolonged, more +despairing. Faithful creature! Know you not that summer’s gentle gale and +winter’s howling storm have swept over the grave of him whom you so +piteously bemoan. + +Fanny stopped her ears to shut out the bitter cry, but if Kate heard it, +she heeded it not, and bounded on over the graveled walk toward her +mother, who was eagerly waiting for her. In an instant parent and child +were weeping in each other’s arms. + +"My Kate, my darling Kate, are you indeed here?" said Mrs. Wilmot. + +Kate’s only answer was a still more passionate embrace. Then recollecting +herself, she took her husband’s hand and presented him to her mother, +saying, "Mother, I could not bring you Richard, but I have brought you +another son. Will you not give him room in your heart?" + +Mrs. Wilmot had never seen Mr. Miller before, but she was prepared to like +him, not only because he was her daughter’s choice, but because he had +been the devoted friend of her son; consequently she greeted him with a +most kind and affectionate welcome. + +During all this time Fanny was leaning against one of the pillars of the +piazza, but her thoughts were far away. She was thinking of her distant +Kentucky home, and a half feeling of homesickness crept over her, as she +thought how joyfully she would be greeted there, should she ever return. +Her reverie was of short duration, for Kate approached, and leading her to +her mother, simply said, "Mother, this is Fanny." + +’Twas enough. The word Fanny had a power to open the fountains of that +mother’s heart. She had heard the story of the young girl, who had watched +so unweariedly by the bedside of Richard—she had heard, too, of the +generous old man, whose noble heart had cared for and cherished the +stranger, and she knew that she, who advanced toward her so timidly, was +the same young girl, the same old man’s daughter; and could Mr. Middleton +have witnessed her reception of his Sunshine, he would have been +satisfied. + +A messenger was dispatched for Mr. Wilmot, who was superintending some +workmen in a field not far from the house. Mr. Wilmot was a tall, +noble-looking man, whose fine figure was slightly bowed by the frosts of +sixty winters. As he advanced with breathless haste toward the house, Kate +ran to meet him, and the tears which the strong man wept, told how dear to +him was this, his beautiful daughter, and how forcibly her presence +reminded him of his first-born, only son, who went away to die among +strangers. + +When he was presented to Mr. Miller and Fanny, a scene similar to the one +we have already described took place. As he blessed Fanny for Richard’s +sake, she felt that though in a strange land, she was not alone or +unloved. Her homesickness soon vanished; for how could she be lonely and +sad, where all were so kind, and where each seemed to vie with the other +in trying to make everything agreeable to her. It was strange how soon +even Hector learned to love the fair Kentuckian. He would follow her +footsteps wherever she went, and affectionately kiss her hands. But then, +as Kate said, "Hector had more common sense than half the people in the +world," and he seemed to know by instinct that she whom he so fondly +caressed had once watched over his young master, who was now sleeping in +his silent grave, unmindful that in his home he was still sincerely +mourned even by old Hector. + +Not many days after Fanny’s arrival at Mr. Wilmot’s she was told that a +gentleman wished to see her in the parlor. On entering the room how +surprised she was at beholding Frank Cameron. He had learned by letter +from Kate that Fanny was in C——, and he immediately started for his +uncle’s. + +Since his return from Kentucky he had thoughts of little else save Fanny +Middleton. Waking or sleeping, she was constantly in his mind, and still +with a happy thought of her there ever came a sadder feeling, a fear that +his love for her would be in vain. But since the morning when he bade her +adieu, her name had never once passed his lips. + +When his sister Gertrude questioned him concerning the Kentucky girls, he +had described to her in glowing terms the extreme beauty of Julia, and the +handsome eyes of "the widder," as he called Mrs. Carrington, but of Fanny +he had never spoken. He could not bear that even his own sister should +mention Fanny in connection with any one else. How ever, when Kate’s +letter arrived, he passed it over to Gertrude, whose curiosity was +instantly roused, and she poured forth a torrent of questions as to who +that Fanny Middleton was. + +"I suppose she must be old Mr. Middleton’s daughter," was Frank’s teasing +reply. + +"Of course I know that," said Gertrude, "but what of her? who is she?" + +"Why, I’ve told you once, she is Fanny Middleton," said Frank. + +These and similar answers were all Gertrude could draw from him, and she +fell into a fit of pouting; but Frank was accustomed to that, and +consequently did not mind it. Next he announced his intention to visit his +Uncle Wilmot. Gertrude instantly exclaimed, "Now, Frank, you are too bad. +Just as soon as you hear Fanny Middleton is in New York, you start off to +see her, without even telling me who she is, or what she is. In my opinion +you are in love with her, and do not wish us to know it." + +This started up Mrs. Cameron’s ideas, and she said, "Frank, I am inclined +to believe Gertrude is right; but you surely will be respectful enough to +me to answer my questions civilly." + +"Certainly," said Frank. "Ask anything you please; only be quick, for it +is almost car time." + +"Well then, do you intend to make this Miss Middleton your wife?" + +"I do, if she will have me," said Frank. + +The distressed lady groaned audibly, but continued, "One more question, +Frank. Is she rich and well connected?" + +Frank passed his hand through the thick curls of his brown hair, and +seemed to be trying hard to think of something. Finally he answered, "Why, +really, mother, I never once thought to ask that question." + +"But," persisted Mrs. Cameron, "you can judge by her appearance, and that +of her parents. Did you not see them?" + +Frank laughed loudly as the image of Uncle Joshua as he first saw him in +the door, buttoning his suspender, presented itself to his remembrance; +but he answered, "Yes, mother, I did see her father, and ’twas the richest +sight I ever saw." + +He then proceeded to give a description of Mr. Middleton to his astonished +sister and mother, the latter of whom exhibited such distress that Frank +very compassionately asked, "if she had the toothache." + +Before she had time to answer, Frank was gone, leaving his mother to +lament over the strange infatuation which always led Frank in pursuit of +somebody beneath him. + +"I know," said she to Gertrude, "that this Fanny Middleton is from a +horrid low family, and is as poor as a church mouse." + +So while Frank was hurrying toward the village of C——, his mother and +sister were brooding over the disgrace which they feared threatened them. +They could have spared all their painful feelings, for she of the "low +family" was destined to be another’s. + +During Frank’s ride to C—— he determined, ere his return, to know the +worst. "She can but refuse me," thought he, "and even if she does, I shall +feel better than I do now." When he met Fanny his manner was so calm and +collected that she never dreamed how deep was the affection she had +kindled in his heart. She received him with real pleasure, for he seemed +like a friend from Kentucky. He staid with her but three days, and when he +left he bore a sadder heart than he had ever felt before. Fanny had +refused him; not exultingly, as if a fresh laurel had been won only to be +boasted of, but so kindly, so delicately, that Frank felt almost willing +to act it all over again for the sake of once more hearing Fanny’s voice, +as she told him how utterly impossible it was for her ever again to love +as a husband should be loved. + +"Then," said Frank, somewhat bitterly, "you acknowledge that you have +loved another." + +"Yes," answered Fanny, "but no other circumstances could have wrung the +confession from me. I have loved and been deceived. I will not say my +faith in man’s honor is wholly gone, for I believe you, Mr. Cameron, to be +perfectly sincere and honorable in your professions of regard. Had we met +earlier all might have been different, but now it is too late. If my +friendship is worth having, it is yours. I have never had a brother, but +will look upon and love you as one; with that, you must be satisfied." + +And he did try to be satisfied, but only because there was no other +alternative. Still he felt a pleasure in being near her, in breathing the +same atmosphere and gazing on the same scenes. Before he returned home he +had decided upon accompanying her, together, with Mr. and Mrs. Miller, on +their contemplated trip to Saratoga; thence they would go on to New York +City, and visit at his father’s. + +"I am sorry," said he, "that it is not the season for parties, as I should +love dearly to show off Fanny in opposition to our practised city belles, +and now I think of it," continued he, "isn’t Mr. Stanton coming North this +summer after a certain Miss Ashton?" + +"I believe he is," answered Kate. + +"Now then," said Frank. "I have it exactly. Judge Fulton, who is Miss +Ashton’s guardian, has recently removed to the city. I know him well, and +have been introduced to Miss Helen. Stanton has already invited us all to +his wedding, and as Miss Ashton will of course repeat the invitation, +Fanny will thus have an opportunity of seeing a little of the gay world in +New York." + +"You seem to think any praise bestowed upon Fanny as so much credit for +yourself," said Kate, mischievously. + +Frank made no reply, and soon bidding good-by to his friends, he was on +his way to the city. On reaching home he found his mother and sister in a +state of great anxiety concerning "the odious old scarecrow’s corncake +daughter," as Gertrude styled Fanny. Her first question, after asking +about Kate, was, "Well, Frank, tell me, did you propose to Miss +Middleton?" + +"Most certainly I did. That was one object in going," was Frank’s quiet +reply. + +The horrified Mrs. Cameron, throwing up both hands in a most theatrical +manner, exclaimed, "Mon Dieu!" It was the only French phrase she knew, and +she used it upon all occasions. This time, however, it was accompanied by +a loud call for her vineagrette and for air, at the same time declaring it +was of no use trying to restore her, for her heart was broken and she was +going to faint. + +"Let me wash these red spots off from your cheek. You can’t faint +gracefully with so much color," said Frank gravely, at the same time +literally deluging his mother’s face with cologne, much against the +blooming lady’s inclination. This little scene determined Frank not to +tell that he was rejected. At first he had intended to disclose all, but +now he decided otherwise. "They may as well fret about that as anything +else," thought he, "and when they see Fanny, I shall have a glorious +triumph." So he kept his own secret, and commenced teasing Gertrude about +going to Saratoga with himself, their cousin Kate and Fanny. + +"I shall do no such thing, Master Frank," said Gertrude. "I am willing +enough to see Kate, and invite her here too, for she is fine looking and +appears well, even if she is a music teacher; but this Fanny +Middleton—Ugh! I’ll never associate with her on terms of equality, or own +her as my sister either." + +"I do not think you will," said Frank; but Gertrude knew not what cause he +had for so saying. + +After he had quitted the apartment, Mrs. Cameron and Gertrude tried to +think of some way to let Fanny know that she was not wanted in their +family. "Dear me," said Gertrude, "I will not go to Saratoga, and be +obliged to see Frank make a dolt of himself with this plebian Kentuckian. +If she were only rich and accomplished, why, it would be different, and +the fact of her being from Kentucky would increase her attractions. But +now it is too bad!" And Gertrude actually cried with vexation and +mortified pride. Poor creature! How mistaken she was with regard to Fanny +Middleton, and so she one day learned. + +But as the reader is doubtless anxious to hear of Fanny’s introduction to +Mrs. Cameron and Gertrude, we will give a description of it in the next +chapter. + + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + + FANNY WELCOMED BY MRS. CAMERON + + +Contrary to his first intention, Stanton concluded to come North in July. +He had of course learned from Nellie that her mysterious guardian had +proved to be Judge Fulton, his sister’s husband. And more recently she had +written to him of Judge Fulton’s removal to New York City. Mr. Miller was +apprised of Stanton’s return by a letter, in which he was also informed +that the wedding would take place in Grace Church on the morning of the +22d. + +Not long after there came invitations for himself, wife and Fanny to +attend the bridal party, at the residence of Judge Fulton, on the evening +of July 25. Frank, who was also invited, had his own reason for not +wishing his mother or sister to see Fanny until they met her at Judge +Fulton’s. Consequently he was not sorry when both ladies graciously +informed him that Miss Middleton would not be invited by them to visit at +their house. "Of course," said Mrs. Cameron, "we shall invite Kate and her +husband, and shall be glad to see them. If you choose, you can in your own +name invite Fanny, but if she knows anything she will not come." + +Frank knew there was no possible danger of Fanny’s accepting an +invitation, which came simply from himself, but he did not say so, and +next day he started again for his Uncle Wilmot’s. To his cousin Kate he +imparted a knowledge of his mother’s and Gertrude’s feelings and also told +of his own plans. Kate readily fell in with them and when Frank returned +to the city he was accompanied by Mr. Miller, Kate and Fanny, who took +rooms at the Astor House. As soon as Mrs. Cameron and Gertrude learned +that Kate was in the city, they called upon her. Fanny they of course did +not see, neither did they mention her name. Kate expected as much, but +nevertheless felt vexed, and when they urged her to spend the remainder of +her time with them, she replied, "I have a young friend from Kentucky with +me, and unless you invite her too, I do not feel at liberty to accept your +polite invitation." + +In answer to this, Gertrude muttered something about "not wishing to +enlarge the circle of her acquaintance," while Mrs. Cameron said nothing, +and the two ladies soon swept haughtily out of the room. + +"Never mind," said Frank, to whom Kate related her adventure, "they will +both sing another tune ere long," and he was right too. + +The 25th of July at last arrived. Frank had informed Gertrude that she +must look to her father for a beau that evening, as he should be otherwise +engaged; so she was not surprised when her brother, long before sunset, +left the house all equipped for the party. She well knew where he was +going and for whose society she was deserted. One hour later found her +seated in a large armchair before the mirror in her dressing room. + +Gertrude was a tall, fine-looking girl, but in the expression of her +handsome features there was something wanting. She lacked soul, and no one +ever looked on the cold, proud face of Gertrude Cameron, without being +convinced that she was altogether heartless and selfish. + +On this occasion, as she sat in the large armchair, she said to her +waiting maid, "I say, Jane, you must do your best tonight to have me +splendidly dressed." + +"Yes, ma’am, I understand," said Jane, and she proceeded to bedeck her +young mistress with all sorts of finery. Her dress consisted of a rich, +white satin, over which was thrown a skirt of handsomely embroidered lace. +All the ornaments of gold and diamonds for which a place could possibly be +found were heaped upon her, and when her toilet was completed, she seemed +one gorgeous mass of jewelry. + +"There, that will do," said she, as Jane clasped the last diamond bracelet +on her arm. "I presume this Fanny Middleton has never dreamed of so costly +a dress as I shall appear in tonight." + +Meanwhile in another part of the city, another toilet was being made, but +of a different nature. Kate and Frank both were anxious that for once +Fanny should deviate from her usually simple style of dress, and adopt +something more in keeping with her father’s wealth. At first Fanny +hesitated, but was finally persuaded, and gave Kate permission to select +for her anything she chose. + +As, on the evening of the party, she glanced at the image which her mirror +reflected, she was pardonable for feeling a slight thrill of pleasure. +Frank was in raptures, declaring nothing had ever been seen in New York so +perfectly lovely. And truly, Fanny was beautiful as she stood there +arrayed for the party. + +She was dressed in a French robe of white tarlatan, embroidered in boquets +of lilies of the valley in silver. A single japonica rested among the +curls of her bright hair, while her neck was encircled by a necklace of +pearls, and costly bracelets of the same clasped her white, slender +wrists. + +"Why, Fanny," said Mr. Miller, "how beautiful you look. What would your +father say could he see you now?" + +At the mention of her father’s name the teardrops glistened for a moment +in Fanny’s eye, and she felt how gladly she would have foregone all the +expected pleasure of that night for the pleasure of again seeing her +distant father. She, however, dashed the tears away, and replied, "I fear +he would think his Sunshine wholly covered up and spoiled by trumpery, as +he calls fashionable dress." + +Frank noticed her emotion when speaking of her father, and he thought how +priceless must be the love of one who thus so truly honored her parents. A +feeling of sadness was blended with his admiration of Fanny, for +constantly in his heart was the knowledge that she never would be his. And +here Frank showed how truly noble he was, for he could still love and +cling to Fanny, although he knew that for him there was no hope. + +Let us now transport our readers to the elegant residence of Judge Fulton, +which was situated upon Fifth Avenue. Stanton, with his fair bride, had +returned from visiting his parents near Geneva, and now in the large +parlors of Judge Fulton, they were receiving the congratulations of their +friends, whose numbers each moment increased, until the rooms were filled +to overflowing. Frank and his party had not yet arrived. He designed to be +late, for he well knew his mother and sister would not be early, and he +wished to give them the full benefit of Fanny’s introduction into the +drawing room. + +But a part of his scheme was frustrated, for his mother, who was suffering +with a violent headache, was obliged to remain above stairs for a time, +and Gertrude alone witnessed her brother’s triumph. She was standing near +Mr. and Mrs. Stanton, carelessly twirling a costly boquet, which one of +her obsequious beaux had given her, when she overheard Nellie say to her +husband, "I do hope she will come, for I am all impatience to see one whom +you have praised until I am half jealous." + +Gertrude wondered much whom Mrs. Stanton could mean, but her wonder soon +ceased, for there was a stir at the door. The crowd around it fell back as +Frank Cameron walked proudly into the room, bearing upon his arm Fanny +Middleton. Her fame had preceded her, for many of those present had +learned that a Kentucky belle and heiress was stopping at the Astor, and +would be present at the party. As she advanced into the room, Gertrude +felt, rather than heard the murmur of admiration which ran round the room, +and her quick ear caught the words, "Yes, that’s she; that’s the heiress; +that’s Miss Middleton from Frankfort." + +Gladly would Gertrude have escaped her brother’s eye, which instantly +sought her out; but she felt unable to move, and stood watching the +animated face and graceful manners of Fanny, who, in being presented to +Mrs. Fulton and Stanton, passed near her. Every article of Fanny’s dress +was noted, and an estimate made as to its probable cost. "She must be +wealthy," thought she, "or she could not dress so expensively." Suddenly +one of Gertrude’s acquaintances touched her elbow, and said, "Come, Miss +Gertrude, do gratify our curiosity and tell us about this Kentucky belle. +Of course you know her, as she is attended by your brother." + +Deeply mortified Gertrude was obliged to confess that she had no +acquaintance with her. "That’s strange," said the lady. "We all supposed +she stopped at your father’s with your cousin." + +A new idea entered Gertrude’s mind, and instead of replying to this last +remark, she said, "I shall know her well, though, for Frank has proposed +to her." + +"Did she accept him?" asked the lady eagerly. + +"Of course," was Gertrude’s haughty answer. "Do you think he would offer +himself unless sure of success?" + +Ten minutes more and dozens of persons were gossiping about the engagement +between Frank Cameron and the beautiful Kentuckian. Scores of questions +were poured in upon Gertrude relative to her future sister-in-law, but +none of them could she answer. Vexed at her own ignorance, she ran +upstairs to her mother, whom she told to "come down immediately and see +what fools they had made of themselves." + +"Why, what is the matter, child?" said Mrs. Cameron, much alarmed at +Gertrude’s excited looks and manners. + +"All the city is ready to fall down and worship this Fanny Middleton, whom +we have treated with such neglect," said Gertrude, and then she added what +was of more consequence than all the rest, "Why, mother, she’s the most +elegantly dressed lady in the room!" + +In a moment Mrs. Cameron was descending the broad staircase. There was the +sound of the piano and someone singing. Gertrude pressed forward until she +caught sight of the singer, then pulling her mother’s sleeve, she +whispered, "This way, mother; that is Miss Middleton playing." + +Mrs. Cameron’s first emotion, on beholding Fanny and the flattering +attentions she everywhere received, was one of intense mortification, to +think she had not been first to notice and chaperone her. "I will, +however, make all possible amends now," thought she, and finding Frank she +desired for herself and Gertrude an introduction to Miss Middleton; but +Frank did not feel disposed to grant his mother’s request immediately, and +he said, "Pardon me, mother, but you see Miss Middleton is very much +engaged at present with some of her friends, so you must wait awhile." + +Mrs. Cameron was too proud to ask any one else to introduce her, and it +seemed that she and Gertrude were not likely to make Fanny’s acquaintance +at all. Toward the close of the party, however, Frank thought proper to +introduce them. Mrs. Cameron determined to do her best, and she +overwhelmed Fanny with so much flattery, that the poor girl longed for +some way of escape, thinking to herself, "Is it possible that Frank +Cameron’s mother is such a silly woman?" Once Mrs. Cameron went so far as +to hint the probability that Miss Middleton would one day be her daughter. + +"What can she possibly mean?" thought Fanny; at the same time gracefully +excusing herself she ran upstairs after her shawl and veil, as Kate had +signified her intention of returning home. But Mrs. Cameron was not to be +thus foiled. She started in pursuit, and reaching the bonnet room as soon +as Fanny, insisted that she and Kate should stop with her during the +remainder of her stay in the city. As Frank soon appeared and joined his +entreaties with those of his mother, Fanny said she would do just as Mrs. +Miller thought proper. Kate, who had expected a similar denouement, +expressed her perfect willingness to visit at her uncle’s. + +Accordingly, the next morning they left their rooms at the Astor House and +repaired to Mrs. Cameron’s, where they were most affectionately received +by Mrs. Cameron and Gertrude. And now commenced a series of toadyism which +was vastly amusing to their acquaintances, many of whom had witnessed Mrs. +Cameron’s manner at the party and had since learned a part of the story. +It was strange how soon Mrs. Cameron and Gertrude discovered how many fine +qualities Fanny possessed. Even the "odious scarecrow of a father" was +transformed into an "odd old gentleman," and in speaking of him to one of +her acquaintances, Mrs. Cameron said "he was a very generous, wealthy, but +eccentric old man, and was one of the first citizens in Frankfort." The +good lady forgot that Uncle Joshua did not reside in Frankfort, but twelve +miles from that city! Her word, however, was not questioned, for of course +she would know all about the family of her son’s intended wife. + +Meanwhile the report of Frank’s engagement was circulated freely, and the +whole matter would undoubtedly have been arranged, marriage ceremony and +all, had not Frank put an end to the matter by utterly denying the story. +Some young gentlemen were one morning congratulating him on his future +prospects, and declaring their intention of going to Kentucky, if there +were any more Fannys there, when Frank asked upon whose authority they +were repeating a story for which there was no foundation. + +"Why," answered one of them, "my sister heard it from your sister +Gertrude." + +"From Gertrude!" said Frank in amazement, "from Gertrude! Well, I cannot +answer for what Gertrude says, but I assure you I am not engaged to Miss +Middleton, and have never been." + +This was in the morning, and that evening when Frank entered the sitting +room where his mother and sister were, they beset him to know why he had +denied his engagement with Fanny. + +"Because," said he, rather indignantly, "there is no engagement between +us." + +"Oh, Frank," said Gertrude, "you told us so." + +"I never told you so," answered he, rather warmly. "I told you I had +proposed, and I did propose, and was refused." + +"But why didn’t you tell us?" continued Gertrude. + +"Because you didn’t ask me," replied Frank. "You supposed, of course, none +could refuse me, so jumped at conclusions and have got yourself into a +fine spot." + +There was no need of telling this, for Mrs. Cameron readily saw it and +went off into a fit of hysterics, while Gertrude burst into tears. + +"What a strange girl you are!" said Frank. "Once you cried because you +thought I was engaged to Fanny, and now you cry because I am not." So +saying he gave a low mocking whistle and left his mother and sister to +console themselves as best they could. + +We will not weary the reader by repeating the conversation between +Gertrude and her mother. We will only say that Mrs. Cameron decided to go +as soon as possible to Saratoga, "and when once there," said she, "I will +use all my influence with Miss Middleton; nay, if necessary, I will even +beg her to marry Frank, for I know she likes him." + +Gertrude was delighted with this idea. She had forgotten how determined +she once was not to visit Saratoga with Fanny Middleton. Next morning Mrs. +Cameron proposed to her guests that as the weather was getting warm, they +should start directly for the Springs. The visitors of course could make +no objections, and as Mr. and Mrs. Stanton, who were to accompany them, +also acquiesced in the plan, two days more found our friends at Saratoga, +together with crowds more of the fashionable from the north, south, east +and west. + +On the first day of their arrival, Fanny noticed seated opposite her at +the dinner table, a dark-eyed, sprightly looking girl, whose eyes so +constantly met hers, that at last both blushed and the stranger girl half +smiled. By her side sat a gentleman, whom Fanny concluded was the young +lady’s brother. Something in their appearance interested Fanny, and she +could not help thinking that they were from the South. That evening as she +was walking alone upon the piazza, she was suddenly joined by the unknown +lady, who accosted her with, "Pardon me, ma’am, but am I not speaking to +Miss Middleton from Kentucky?" + +Fanny was too much surprised to answer immediately, but soon recovering +her self-possession, she answered, "You are, but I have not the pleasure +of knowing you." + +"I presume not," said the lady. "We have never met before, and yet I knew +you instantly." + +"Knew me! How?" asked Fanny. + +"From description," replied the lady. "You have been so accurately +described to me by our mutual friend Miss Woodburn, of New Orleans, that I +could not mistake you." + +"Florence Woodburn! New Orleans!" exclaimed Fanny. "And are you from New +Orleans, and do you know Florence, and have you seen Julia?" + +To all these questions the stranger answered "Yes," continuing, "and now +let me introduce myself. I am Lida Gibson, but I might as well be John +Smith for any idea my name will convey. However, I am from New Orleans, +and know Florence and your Uncle William well. Just before I left the +city, I made your sister’s acquaintance. When she learned I was coming +this way, she said I might possibly see you, and made me the bearer of +many messages of love." + +Fanny had never heard of Lida Gibson, but it was sufficient that she knew +her uncle and Julia, so her hand was immediately offered, and the +remainder of the evening the two young girls promenaded the piazza arm in +arm, talking of their distant homes and absent friends. + +"Where did you see Julia?" asked Fanny. + +"Your uncle’s house was not quite ready, consequently he and Julia were +spending a few days at the residence of Dr. Lacey," answered Lida. + +"Dr. Lacey!" said Fanny, in some surprise. "Julia at Dr. Lacey’s?" + +"Yes, why not?" said Lida, laughing merrily at Fanny’s manner. "There is +nothing improper about that, for Dr. Lacey’s father was then absent, and +his mother, for the time, stayed with her son. I fancied it was not at all +unpleasant either to Dr. Lacey or Julia, that they were thus thrown +together, and I should not wonder if the doctor should one day call you +sister!" + +Lida Gibson, whom our readers will recollect as having met at Mabel +Mortimer’s party in New Orleans, was a thoughtless, but kind-hearted girl, +and never felt happier than when employed in canvassing matches. On the +morning when the Cameron party arrived at the Springs, she had sent her +brother to learn the names of the newcomers. On his return he mentioned +Fanny Middleton as being one of the new arrivals, so ’twas not surprising +that Lida should so readily recognize her. + +As days passed on Lida too heard of the supposed engagement between Fanny +and Frank Cameron, and for once kept silent upon the subject, at least in +Fanny’s presence. Dearly as she loved to discuss such matters, she felt +there was something in the character of her new friend which forbade an +approach to anything like jesting about so personal an affair as one’s own +engagement. She, however, fully believed the report, for everything she +saw tended to confirm it, and she was anxious to return home that she +might carry the important news to Julia and Dr. Lacey. Poor Fanny! The +clouds were gathering darkly about her, but she, all unconscious of the +consequence, talked, laughed, rode and sang with Frank, never thinking +that she was thus confirming Lida in a belief which would tend to remove +Dr. Lacey farther and farther from her. Could Lida have heard a +conversation which one evening took place between Mrs. Cameron and Fanny, +different, very different would have been the report which she carried +back. + +One evening as Fanny, Lida and Gertrude were walking upon the piazza, a +servant came, saying that Mrs. Cameron desired to see Miss Middleton in +her room. Fanny immediately obeyed the summons, and as soon as she was +gone, Lida laughingly congratulated Gertrude upon the project of having so +pleasant a sister. Gertrude smilingly received Miss Gibson’s +congratulations. "For," thought she, "even if Fanny does not marry Frank, +Miss Gibson will probably never know it, as she is to leave in a few +days." + +Let us now with Fanny repair to Mrs. Cameron’s room, but not like her +wondering why she was sent for. We well know why, and consequently are +prepared for the look of mingled indignation and astonishment which +appeared on Fanny’s face when she learned that Mrs. Cameron was pleading +the cause of her son! Fanny answered, "Madam, I have always entertained +the highest respect for your son, but I must confess it is lessened if it +is with his knowledge you are speaking to me." + +Mrs. Cameron, who had at first intimated that it was Frank’s request that +she should thus intercede for him, now saw her mistake, and veering about, +declared what was indeed true, that Frank was wholly ignorant of the +whole. Then followed a long, eloquent speech, in which Mrs. Cameron by +turns tried to coax, flatter, importune, or frighten Fanny into a +compliance with her wishes, but Fanny could only repeat her first answer. +"I cannot, Mrs. Cameron, I cannot marry Frank. I acknowledge that I like +him, but only as I would love a brother. Further remonstrance is useless, +for I shall never marry him." + +"And why not?" asked Mrs. Cameron. "Do you love another? Are you engaged +to another?" + +"I cannot answer these questions," said Fanny. "Frank knows my reason and +has my permission to give it to you." Then rising, she added, "I suppose +our conference is now ended, and with your leave I will retire." + +Mrs. Cameron nodded her head in assent, and Fanny immediately left the +room. A moment after she quitted the apartment, Gertrude entered, all +impatient to know her mother’s success. + +"Baffled, baffled," was Mrs. Cameron’s reply to her interrogatories. "I +can do nothing with her. She is as stubborn as a mule, and we shall either +have to conjure up for some reason why the engagement was broken off, or +else run the risk of being well laughed at among our circle in New York." + +A few days after this, Lida Gibson started for the South, promising Fanny +that she would see Julia as soon as possible after her return home. Ere +long Mrs. Cameron too was seized with a desire to return to the city. The +remainder of the party made no objections, and accordingly Mr. and Mrs. +Stanton, Mrs. Cameron, Frank and Gertrude were soon in New York. + +Soon after their return, Mrs. Cameron said, in speaking of Fanny, "that +’twas quite doubtful whether Frank would marry her or not. She was so +young, and had, too, so many suitors in Kentucky that she probably would +soon forget him, and for her part she was pleased to have it so!" + + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + + JULIA ANNOUNCES HER ENGAGEMENT TO DR. LACEY + + +Summer was gone and the bright, sunny days of autumn had come. + +Again in Kate Wilmot’s home were tears wept and blessings breathed, as Mr. +and Mrs. Wilmot bade farewell to their "children," as they affectionately +called all three of the individuals who were that morning to start for +their home in Kentucky. + +"God bless you, Kate, my darling Kate," said Mrs. Wilmot as she fondly +kissed her only child. Then turning to Fanny, she said, "And you, too, my +other daughter, you have my love and earnest prayers for your happiness." + +Mr. Wilmot could not speak, but his feelings were not less deep, as he +embraced his child and shook the hands of Mr. Miller and Fanny. Old +Hector, too, shared in the general sorrow, but for some undefinable reason +he seemed to cling more closely to Fanny. He would look up in her face and +howl, as if he knew she was leaving him forever. "Noble Hector!" said +Fanny, "and do you indeed love me so well?" Then kneeling down by him, she +drew from her neck a tiny locket, in which was a daguerreotype of herself. +To this she attached a blue ribbon, which she fastened around Hector’s +neck, saying, "I cannot stay with you, Hector, but you shall have my +likeness." Afterward when strangers visited the house and marvelled at +Hector’s unusual neck gear, they were shown the fair, sweet face, which +looked forth from the golden casing, and were told the story of the young +girl, whose presence had been like Sunshine in Richard Wilmot’s darkened +home. + +Mr. Miller was not willing that Fanny should leave New York without first +visiting Niagara Falls. Accordingly, they stopped at the Falls, and were +there joined by Mr. and Mrs. Stanton and Frank, the latter of whom was +desirous of seeing Fanny as long as possible. He accompanied them to +Buffalo, and stayed upon the boat which was to bear them away until the +last bell rang out its warning. As he was leaving them Kate playfully +asked if they were taking anything of his with them. "Yes, everything, +everything," he answered. + +Soon the steamer was moving proudly over the blue waters of Lake Erie. On +the upper deck our Kentucky friends were waving their handkerchiefs to +Frank, who stood upon the wharf as long as one bright-haired girl could be +distinguished by the light of the harvest moon, whose rays fell calmly +upon the placid waters. + +In a few days Mr. Middleton again folded to his bosom his Sunshine, now +more precious than ever, because, as he said, "He’d lain awake a heap o’ +nights, worryin’ about her. The dogs had howled, the death watches had +ticked on the wall, and everything had carried on, t’other side up, ever +since she’d been gone. But look, Nancy," he continued to his wife, "she’s +fattin’ up right smart. Her journey has done her a heap of good, and I’m +glad I let her go." + +The blacks now crowded round, delighted to welcome home their young +mistress, who had a kind word and some little gift for each. Particularly +were Aunt Katy and Aunt Judy pleased with the present of a tasty lace cap, +whose value was greatly increased from the fact that they were bought in +New York City. In these simple creatures’ estimation, New York and +Frankfort were the largest places in the world. "I s’pose," said Aunt +Katy, "that this New York is mighty nigh three times as large as +Frankfort." + +"Three times as large!" repeated Fanny. "Why, yes, Katy, forty times as +large." + +From that time Aunt Katy looked upon Fanny as one not long for this world. +"’Tain’t in natur," said she, "that she should stay long. Allus was peart +like and forrud, and now has been ridin’ in the railroad all over the +airth, and hain’t got lost nuther, besides a-sailin’ along in the steam +engine over the salt water." + +It was indeed marvelous how much Fanny had seen, and when she came to tell +the wonder-stricken negroes of the cataract of Niagara, their amazement +knew no bounds. Our friend Bobaway did not fail to ease himself by a round +of somersaults, his usual manner of expressing surprise or pleasure. At +the same time he whispered to Lucy that "He’s mistaken if Miss Fanny wan’t +tellin’ ’em a stretcher this time," for which declaration Lucy rewarded +him with a smart box on the ear, saying, "Is you no better manners than to +’cuse white folks of lyin’? Miss Fanny never’d got as well as she is if +she’s picked up a mess of lies to tell us." + +Fanny’s health was indeed much improved, and for a day or two after her +return home, she bounded about the house and grounds as lightly and +merrily as she had done in childhood. Mr. Middleton noticed the change and +was delighted. "I b’lieve she’s forgettin’ that paltry doctor," said he, +but he was wrong. + +The third day after her return she was sitting with her parents, relating +to them an account of her journey, when Ike entered the room. He had been +sent to the post office and now came up to Fanny, saying, "Here, I done +got this air," at the same time handing her a letter, which she instantly +saw was from her sister. Eagerly taking it, she said, "A letter from +Julia. I am delighted. It is a long time since I have heard from her." +Then quickly breaking the seal, she commenced reading it. + +Gradually as she read there stole over her face a strange expression. It +was a look of despair—of hope utterly crushed, but she finished the letter +and then mechanically passing it to her father, she said, "Read it; it +concerns us all," and then rising she went to her room, leaving her father +to read and swear over Julia’s letter at his leisure. That he did so no +one will doubt when they learn its contents. + +The first page contained assurances of love; the second congratulated +Fanny upon her engagement with Frank, but chided her for suffering Lida +Gibson to be the bearer of the news. "Why did you not write to me +yourself?" she said—"that is the way I shall do, and now to prove my +words, you will see how confiding I am." Then followed the intelligence +that Dr. Lacey had the night before offered his heart and hand and of +course had been accepted. "You will not wonder at it," she wrote, "for you +know how much I have always loved him. I was, however, greatly surprised +when he told me he always preferred me to you, but was prevented from +telling me so by my silly engagement with Mr. Wilmot and my supposed +affection for him." The letter ended by saying that Dr. Lacey would +accompany her home some time during the latter part of October, when their +marriage would take place. There was also a "P.S.," in which Julia wrote, +"Do, Fan, use your influence with the old man and make him fix up the +infernal old air castle. I’d as soon be married in the horse barn as +there." + +This, then, was the letter which affected Fanny so, and called all of +Uncle Joshua’s biggest oaths into use. Mrs. Middleton tried to calm her +husband and remind him of his promise not to swear. "I know it," said he, +"I know I promised not to swear, and for better than two months I hain’t +swore, but I can’t help it now. And yet I expected it. I know’d ’twould be +so when I let Tempest go to New Orleans. But he’ll run himself into a +hornet’s nest, and I ain’t sure but it’s just the punishment for him." + +"Why, then, do you rave so?" asked Mrs. Middleton. + +"Because," answered her husband, "when I let Tempest go, I’d no idee +Sunshine cared so much for him. If I had, I’d have slung a halter round +Tempest’s neck and tied her up in the hoss barn she likes so well!" + +The old man was evidently piqued at Julia’s thrust at the old house. "Fix +up! A heap I’ll fix up for her to be married," continued he. + +"Then you’ll give your consent?" said Mrs. Middleton. + +"Consent! Who’s asked any consent?" replied he, "and ’tain’t likely they +will nuther; and if I should refuse, Tempest wouldn’t mind clamberin’ out +of the chimbly to run away, and the doctor has showed himself jest as +mean. No; he may have her and go to the old boy for all of Josh. But +what’s this about Cameron? I hope ’tis so, but I’m mighty feared it ain’t. +Sunshine can’t love two at a time." + +While Mr. Middleton was thus expending his fury, Fanny was alone in her +room, struggling hard to subdue the bitter feelings which were rising in +her heart. Until now she had not been aware how much she loved Dr. Lacey. +True, she had said it was impossible she could ever marry him; and she had +believed she was trying to forget him; but ever in her heart she had, +perhaps unconsciously, cherished a half formed belief that all would yet +be well, and when she refused the noble, generous heart which Frank +Cameron laid at her feet, it was with a vague hope that Dr. Lacey would +yet be hers. But now every hope was gone. "There is nothing left for me," +said Fanny, "but woe, woe!" ’Twas fearful—the tide of sorrow which swept +over the young girl, but amid the wild storm of passion came the echo of a +still, small voice, whispering of one who loves with more than an earthly +love, who never proves faithless—never fails. Fanny listened to the +Spirit’s pleadings and resolved that henceforth she would seek to place +her affections where "there is no variableness, neither shadow of +turning." + +The whirlwind of excitement passed over, leaving no trace to mark its +passage, save a fixed calm expression, which a more violent demonstration +of feeling would not have done. + +The week following the receipt of Julia’s letter Mr. Middleton had +business which took him to Frankfort. Fanny accompanied him and remained +several days. The morning after her arrival she and Mr. Stanton were +walking upon the upper balcony at Mrs. Crane’s, when they were joined by +Ashton, who had returned from New Orleans a few days before. He had always +been a frequent visitor there, but since his return, his visits had been +more frequent and of longer duration. There was to him something very +fascinating about Stanton’s fair bride, and yet he always felt uneasy when +with her, for her manners and appearance reminded him of the past. + +This morning, however, the mystery was explained, but in what way he could +not tell. + +Soon after he appeared on the balcony, Nellie pointed to a gentleman who +was crossing the street and inquired his name. On being told she replied: +"He looks very much like a Mr. Barnard I used to know years ago in ——," +mentioning the town where she was born. + +"Used to know where?" asked Ashton quickly. + +Nellie repeated the name and Ashton said, "Why, that’s my native town, and +I knew Mr. Barnard well." Then as if the light of a sudden revelation fell +upon him, he added, "And your name, too, was Nellie Ashton? I once had a +sister Nellie, on whose rosy cheeks I dropped a tear the night I ran away +to sea. Can it be that you are that Nellie?" + +A few moments more sufficed them to discover what we have long surmized, +viz., that Henry Ashton and Nellie Stanton were brother and sister. The +surprise and pleasure of their recognition is better imagined than +described. We will only say that when Stanton, on his return from the +office, stepped out upon the balcony in quest of his wife, he was greatly +shocked at beholding her in Ashton’s arms, and his amazement was increased +when he saw that she not only suffered his caresses, but also returned +them in a manner highly displeasing to the young husband. Fanny, however, +soon explained all, and Stanton gladly received Ashton as a newly found +brother. + +It is unnecessary for us to repeat what Nellie and her brother had to +relate concerning themselves since the night when Ashton so +unceremoniously took leave of his home. With the important points in their +history the reader is already acquainted, so for the present we leave +them, while we take a brief glance at Mrs. Carrington. The reader will +doubtless think that for once in her life that estimable lady has done a +good deed, although her motive was not the best in the world. Before Julia +went to New Orleans, Mrs. Carrington so far overcame her dislike as to ask +her to write. Julia did not promise to do so, but probably concluded she +would, for soon after her arrival in New Orleans she wrote to her a +letter, in which she hinted at the probable result of her visit. She was +then a guest of Dr. Lacey, and she spoke of his attention and politeness +in the most extravagant terms. This so provoked Mrs. Carrington that she +determined at once to write to Dr. Lacey, and give him an insight into +Julia’s real character. + +The letter was accordingly written. We must do Mrs. Carrington the justice +to say that though her object in writing was purely selfish, she asserted +nothing in her letter but what she knew to be strictly true. She was +ignorant of Julia’s conduct concerning Fanny, consequently she said +nothing upon that head, but she spoke of her generally deceitful +character, and mentioned several instances in which she had not hesitated +to stoop to the basest falsehood for the accomplishment of her purpose. + +As she was folding the letter it occurred to her that by some accident +Julia might possibly get hold of it. "And then," thought she, "she will +recognize my handwriting, and curiosity will impel her to open the letter, +after which she wouldn’t hesitate a moment to destroy it." + +The next moment Mrs. Carrington was rapping at the door of Mrs. Miller’s +room. Kate opened it and was greatly surprised at beholding her visitor, +who seldom came there. Mrs. Carrington, however, smilingly presented her +letter to Mr. Miller, saying that she had business with Dr. Lacey, which +rendered it necessary for her to write to him, and as she did not care to +have the post office clerks gossip about her writing to a gentleman, she +wished him to direct it for her. Mr. Miller complied with her request and +the next morning the important document was on its way to New Orleans. + +As our readers have twice made the voyage of the Mississippi, they will +not refuse, again, to run the risk of its floating snags, sandbars and +boat races; so stepping on board the same steamer which bears Mrs. +Carrington’s letter, we will once more, visit Louisiana, and stopping with +Dr. Lacey, will see how much of Julia’s letter to her sister was true. + + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + + RONDEAU DIGS UP THE MISSING LETTER + + +The first three weeks of Julia’s stay in New Orleans were, as we have +learned, spent at the house of Dr. Lacey. His mother was present, and +although she readily acknowledged the uncommon beauty of her fair visitor, +yet from the first she disliked her. + +The servants, too, as if adopting the opinion of their mistress, felt and +expressed among themselves an aversion to the "evil-eyed lady," as they +termed Julia. Aunt Dilsey, in particular, soon had her own reason for +disliking her. The second day after Julia’s arrival, as she was strolling +through the yard, she encountered Jackson, a bright little fellow, three +years of age, and Aunt Dilsey’s only son. Jack, as he was usually called, +was amusing himself by seeing how far he could spit! Unfortunately he spit +too far, and hit Miss Julia’s pink muslin. In an instant her white, +slender fingers were buried in his wool. His screams soon brought Aunt +Dilsey to the rescue. Upon learning the dreadful crime of which Jack had +been guilty, she snatched him from Julia’s grasp, and hurried him into the +house without a word. From that time Dilsey was Julia’s sworn enemy, and +Jack was taught to make up faces at her, whenever he could do so without +being discovered. + +The servants, however, were too well trained to manifest any open +disrespect, for they knew she was "marster’s guest," and as such was +entitled to every possible attention. + +When first she arrived Dr. Lacey felt exceedingly uncomfortable, for her +presence constantly reminded him of the past, and his reminiscences of +Julia were not particularly pleasant. Gradually this feeling wore away, +for she appeared greatly changed. There was a softness, a gentleness, in +her manner, which seemed to Dr. Lacey like Fanny, and then her voice, too, +was so like her sister’s that ere long she ceased to be disagreeable to +him, and instead of avoiding her society, as at first he had done, he now +sought it. + +Julia saw her advantage, and determined to follow it up. Nothing could +exceed her extreme amiability, and apparent sweetness of disposition. Even +Mrs. Lacey was partially deceived, and concluded she had been too hasty in +her estimation of Miss Middleton. Still she watched her son’s movements +narrowly, and hoped he had no intentions of making Julia his wife. + +She was in New Orleans three weeks before her uncle’s house was in +readiness; but at the end of that time she, together with Dr. Lacey, Mabel +Mortimer and Florence Woodburn were about to exchange the heat and dust of +the city for a cooler residence near the lake. The day before they left +was hot and sultry, and in the morning Julia sought the shade of a large +vine-wreathed summer house, which stood in the garden, near by the tree +under which Rondeau had buried his master’s letter. + +One word now about our old friend Rondeau. The buried letter had cost him +a world of trouble. He was constantly fearful lest he should be detected. +Particularly was he afraid that the author of the letter, failing to +receive an answer, would write again, and thus he might be exposed. Twice +had he dug up the epistle upon occasions when he fancied some one of his +master’s letters bore a similar superscription. In this way he had become +tolerably familiar with Mr. Miller’s handwriting, which was rather +peculiar, being a large, heavy, black hand. + +On the morning when Julia was snugly esconced in the summer house, Rondeau +returned from the post office in great tribulation. + +"What’s up now?" asked Leffie, whom Rondeau drew aside, with a dolefully +grave face. + +"Nothing’s up," answered Rondeau, "but the letter has got to come up! I +ain’t going to feel like I was a whipped dog any longer. I’ll confess all +to Marster George, for see, here’s another like the buried one." So +saying, he held up Mrs. Carrington’s letter, on the envelope of which was +Mr. Miller’s writing. + +Leffie offered no remonstrance, and as Aunt Dilsey just then screamed for +her, Rondeau went alone to the garden and proceeded to disinter the buried +document. ’Twas but the work of a moment, and could Julia have been +cooling herself in Greenland, as she ought to have been, all would have +ended well. And now I suppose some indignant reader will say, "Why didn’t +you put her in Greenland, then, or some worse place?" But patience, +patience, a little longer. You would have us tell things just as they +were, I suppose, so we must not only suffer Miss Julia to be in the summer +house, but we must also allow her to be a spectator of Rondeau’s +proceedings. + +She was greatly surprised when she saw him take from the cigar box a much +soiled, yellowish-looking letter, and she could not help feeling that in +some way it concerned herself. Suddenly appearing, she startled Rondeau by +saying, "What are you doing? Whose is that? Give it to me." + +Rondeau was anxious to conceal from her his long-buried treasure, and he +passed her the other. She took it and recognizing Mr. Miller’s writing, +knew also that Rondeau had given her the wrong one, so she said in a +commanding tone, "What does all this mean? Give me the other one +immediately." + +The submissive African, ever obedient to his superiors, handed her the +other letter, and then in a few words told his story, and announced his +intention of confessing all to his master, at the same time extending his +hand to take the letters. But Julia did not mean he should have them, and +she said, coaxingly, "You have done very wrong, Rondeau, and your master +will undoubtedly be very angry, but I will take them to him and intercede +for you, as you are on the whole a pretty fine fellow. He’ll forgive you +for me. I know he will, but mind, don’t you say anything to him about it +until you’ve seen me again." + +So saying, she returned to the house and, going to her room, bolted the +door. After which, breaking the seal of the oldest letter, she +deliberately read it through, occasionally uttering a malediction against +Mr. Miller, thanking the good luck which brought it to her hands instead +of Dr. Lacey’s, and making remarks generally. Said she, "Mighty good +opinion Mr. Quilting-frames has of me (alluding to Mr. Miller’s height), +glad I know his mind. A heap of good the answer to this did him, and his +doll wife, too. Hadn’t I better answer it myself? I’d write after this +fashion: ’Mr. Miller—At first I thought I would treat your letter with +silent contempt, but recently I have concluded to write and thank you to +mind your own business. By order of George Lacey, Esq.—Julia Middleton, +Secretary.’ Yes, that would serve the meddling old Yankee Dictionary +right," continued she, and then, as her eye fell upon the remaining +letter, she added, "Yes, I’ll read this one too, and see what new thing +I’m guilty of!" + +As soon as she broke it open and glanced at the handwriting, she knew it +to be from Mrs. Carrington. "What now?" said she, "what has Mrs. +Carrington got to say about me." + +A rapid perusal of the letter showed her what Mrs. Carrington had to say, +and she continued her remarks as follows: "She has described me quite +accurately. I didn’t suppose she knew me so well. I wonder who’ll write +next! It seems everybody is in league against me, but I’m enough for +anybody there is in Kentucky; and," she added, in a lower tone, "I +wouldn’t hesitate to try my strength with Satan himself;" but even then +the dark girl trembled as she thought there was a God, whom none could +withstand, and who, one day, would inevitably overtake her. + +Quickly as possible she drove such unpleasant thoughts from her mind, and +then tried to devise the best plan for managing Mrs. Carrington. "For Mr. +Miller’s letter," said she, "I care nothing. It was written so long ago +that he has ceased expecting an answer, but I well know Mrs. Carrington’s +designs, and she will continue to write until she receives some reply. I +have once successfully counterfeited Dr. Lacey’s handwriting, and can do +it again. I’ll send her something that will quiet her nerves better than +assafœtida!" + +This settled, she went in quest of Rondeau, whom she told that, as she had +expected, his master was very much displeased. "But," said she, "after I +interceded awhile for you, he said he would forgive you on condition that +you were never guilty of the like again, and never mention the subject to +him in any way, as it makes him angry to talk about it." To both these +conditions Rondeau readily agreed, and Julia left him, thinking she was +safe in that quarter. + +Several days after, Mrs. Carrington received a letter which she supposed +came from Dr. Lacey. In it she was coolly requested not to interfere in +other people’s matters, and told that any efforts on her part to engraft +herself into Dr. Lacey’s good graces by maligning Julia, would be useless, +and only serve to confirm him in his present low opinion of her, while at +the same time it would increase the high estimation in which he held Miss +Middleton! + +After that Mrs. Carrington troubled Dr. Lacey with no more letters, but +busied herself in anticipating the capture of a wealthy gentleman, who +Ashton told her was, in the course of two or three months, coming on from +Charleston, South Carolina. + +The scene now changes from Dr. Lacey’s to the "Indian Nest," on the lake +shore. It was a charming spot, and looked as if intended only for the +inhabitation of the pure and innocent. Yet even there was crafty ambition +and base deceit. Julia was there, eagerly seeking to wind her coils +securely around her long watched-for prey. To all eyes but her own she +seemed not likely to succeed, for though Dr. Lacey admired her and +possibly treated her with more attention than he did either Mabel or +Florence, yet his heart still turned to Fanny, and for hours he would sit, +talking to Julia of her sister, while she schooled herself to answer all +his questions without one sign of impatience. + +Occasionally she would speak to Dr. Lacey of his cousin, young Stanton, +and would tell how much pleasure Fanny seemed to take in his society. But +this produced no effect, for Dr. Lacey had learned from Stanton himself of +his approaching marriage with Miss Ashton. Then Julia pulled another +string and expatiated so largely upon Frank Cameron’s sayings and doings +that Dr. Lacey became really uneasy, for recently he had thought seriously +of again writing to Fanny, and now he determined to do so. + +Without knowing it, Julia was herself the means of causing this +determination to be carried into effect. One night she and Dr. Lacey had +been strolling for more than an hour through the many delightful walks in +the garden, which lay upon the lake shore. To her great satisfaction, they +were entirely alone, for Mr. Middleton and Florence were engaged in their +favorite game of chess, while Mabel was eagerly listening to Ashton, who +was relating to her some of his India adventures. Mabel had good sense +enough to know that her efforts to win Dr. Lacey would be useless, and +rather reluctantly she had given him up. Now her eyes grew brighter and +her heart beat faster whenever Ashton approached. But, fair Mabel, your +hopes are all in vain. + + For Inez, the Spaniard, + Is o’er the sea, + And the heart thou wouldst win + Is not destined for thee. + +As we have before said, Julia was delighted at having Dr. Lacey thus to +herself, and she resolved to increase the favorable impression she knew +she had already made upon him. Most admirably was her part played. Fanny +herself could not have been more gentle and agreeable than was Julia, as, +together with Dr. Lacey, she traversed the broad walks of the garden. +Sweet and soothing were the words she poured into his ear, occasionally +administering a little well-timed flattery, and wishing, as she had once +done before to another individual in similar circumstances, that Dr. Lacey +had been her brother. He did not, like Mr. Wilmot, follow up this wish by +a proposition that as he was not her brother she would accept him for a +husband, but he pressed the hand, which, with seeming unconsciousness, had +been placed on his, and said, "God knows how ardently I once hoped to be +your brother, Julia." + +"And would you then have loved me?" asked Julia, "me whom few have ever +loved, because they did not know me; say, would you have loved me as a +sister?" + +The face of her who awaited Dr. Lacey’s answer was very beautiful, while +tears moistened the long eyelashes, which veiled the large, bright eyes, +and the tones of her voice, now more like Fanny’s than ever, thrilled his +every nerve. What wonder, then, that his lips for the first time touched +the polished brow of the tempter, as he said, "It would be no hard task, +Julia, to love you with more than a brother’s love." + +"One more well-aimed blow," thought Julia, "and I shall have him at my +feet"; but she was mistaken. Between herself and Dr. Lacey there arose the +image of one, the remembrance of whom had a power to prevent the utterance +of words which otherwise might have been spoken. + +Abruptly changing the conversation, he drew her rather reluctantly toward +the house, which they reached just in time to hear Florence exclaim, as +she scattered the chessmen over the floor, "Why, Uncle Billy Middleton, +what do you mean? Put yourself up to be played for, and then beat me; +shame, shame." + +"What is this all about?" asked Dr. Lacey, having some inkling of the +truth. + +"Why," answered Florence, "you see, Mr. Middleton has conceived a fatherly +affection for me, and as he is rather rusty in such matters, he could +think of no better way of proposing than to put himself up as a prize, and +tell me if I beat him in playing chess, he would be mine, or in other +words, make me Mrs. Billy Middleton." + +"And who beat?" asked Julia. + +"Why, Mr. Middleton was ill-mannered enough to win," said Florence, "but +then, it was such fun to see how desperately he played, for fear I should +get him! Now, Dr. Lacey, I suppose you have been proposing to Julia in the +real old, orthodox way, but that is too common. You must sit down at the +chessboard and let Julia play for you," and she pushed them both toward +the chairs, which she and Mr. Middleton had just vacated. + +Julia did not refuse, but Dr. Lacey, freeing himself from Florence, said, +"Excuse me tonight, Miss Woodburn. Perhaps at some other time I will +comply with your request," then bowing, he left the veranda and went to +his own room. + +When there he strove to recall the events of the evening, and the words he +had involuntarily spoken to Julia. "Why is it," said he, "that I feel so +uneasy whenever I am alone with her? Is it that I love her and am afraid I +shall tell her so? No, that cannot be. I do not love her; and yet, next to +Fanny, she is more agreeable to me than any one else." + +Memories of other days came thronging about him, and he then resolved +again to write and beseech Fanny at least to grant him her second love, +even if her first, best affections had been given to another. + +"Suppose she refuses you," seemed whispered in his ear. + +It must have been some evil spirit which prompted the reply, "Then I will +marry Julia, as being next and nearest to Fanny." His resolution once +taken, he proceeded to carry it into effect. The letter was written and +over Dr. Lacey came a sense of relief—a feeling that he had escaped from +something, he knew not what. But she, who was upon his track, was more +wily, more crafty than anything he had ever imagined. + +This time, however, her interference was not necessary, for early next +morning a carriage drew up in front of the Indian Nest. From it sprang +Lida Gibson, who had recently returned from New York. She was full of +talk, and within an hour after her arrival the story of Fanny’s engagement +with Frank Cameron had been repeated in Dr. Lacey’s hearing at least three +times. + +"It must be true," said Lida, "for every one said so, and their actions +proclaimed it, if nothing more; besides, Mr. Cameron’s sister, Gertrude +herself, told me it was so." + +"I am not surprised," said Julia and her uncle both. + +For Julia’s opinion Dr. Lacey possibly might not have cared, but when Mr. +Middleton too added his testimony, the matter was settled. The letter was +not sent. + +During the day Lida wondered much why Dr. Lacey stayed so closely in his +room. "I should think he would roast in there," said she. "I do wonder +what he is about?" + +"I fancy," answered Florence, "that he still loves Fanny, and now that she +is engaged he is staying alone until he gets his rebellious heart tied +up." + +When Lida afterward learned the truth, she expressed a wish that her +tongue might have been cut out ere she had been the bearer of news which +caused so much trouble. + +While Dr. Lacey was securely bolted in his room, nerving himself to bear +this fresh disappointment and striving to drive each thought of Fanny from +him, Julia too was alone and busily engaged. What pains she took to rub +and soil those tiny sheets of paper, until they assumed a worn and +crumpled look! Then dipping her finger in the silver goblet at her side, +what perfect tear blots she made, and how she exulted over the probable +success of her morning’s work! When it was finished she placed it in her +portfolio, and waited for a favorable opportunity. + +It came not that day, however, for save at meal time Dr. Lacey made not +his appearance. To Mr. Middleton’s inquiries concerning the reason of his +seclusion, he replied, "that he was busy with important matters"; but his +abstracted manner led Mr. Middleton to believe what he had long suspected, +viz., that Dr. Lacey’s heart was wholly centered upon Fanny, and that the +news of her coming marriage was the cause of his unhappiness. + +Next morning’s sun rose clear and bright, but it brought a day which Dr. +Lacey long, long remembered, and which Julia, in the bitterness of her +heart, cursed many and many a time. In the early part of the morning Dr. +Lacey wandered down to a small arbor, which stood at the foot of the +garden. He had not been there long before Julia, too, came tripping down +the walk, with her portfolio and drawing pencil. So absorbed was she in +her own thoughts that she of course did not see Dr. Lacey until she had +entered the arbor; then, with a most becoming blush and start, she said, +"Pray pardon me for disturbing you. I had no idea you were here." + +Dr. Lacey, of course, insisted upon her staying. She knew he would, and +sitting down, she busied herself in looking over the contents of her +portfolio. Suddenly she heaved a deep sigh, and Dr. Lacey looked up just +in time to see her wipe something from her eyes, or pretend to, which must +have been tears. At the same time she hastily thrust a paper back into her +portfolio, which she immediately shut. + +"What is the matter?" asked Dr. Lacey. "For whom was that sigh and those +tears?" + +"For poor Fan," answered Julia. "I have accidently found a part of an old +journal, which she kept while Mr. Wilmot was living." + +"May I see it?" asked Dr. Lacey. + +Julia seemed at first reluctant, but finally replied, "Perhaps it will be +as well to let you do so, for you may then judge more kindly of Fanny"; +and she placed in his hands the soiled sheets of paper which we saw in her +room. + +Leaning back she watched him while he read. As we have as much right to +read Fanny’s journal as Dr. Lacey, we will here give a few brief extracts: + + + +April—"Cease your wild beatings, my heart. Mr. Wilmot is promised to +Julia. He will never be mine, but nought can prevent my loving him; ay, +forever and ever." + + + +August 1st—"I do not believe I am indifferent to Mr. Wilmot, but he will +be true to his vows—he will wed Julia; and this doctor that bothers me so, +what of him? Why, he is wealthy, and high, and handsome—but I do not love +him; yet if he offers himself I shall say yes, for, as Mrs. Carrington +says, ’he is a great catch.’" + + + +Sept. 5—"Mr. Wilmot is dead, and with him died my poor, poor heart. Had he +lived, he possibly might have turned to me, for Julia knew how much I +loved him. Dear, generous Julia, how I wish Dr. Lacey would love her, for +she is more worthy of him than I am." + + + +Jan. 1—"Heigh ho, I’m engaged to Dr. Lacey! Who would think it? Now I am +happy! Oh, no. Out in the graveyard lies one who could have made me happy. +Ought I thus to deceive Dr. Lacey? Why, yes; if he is satisfied, it is +well enough. I am ambitious, and if I can’t marry for love, I will for +money. And then he’s given me so beautiful a piano. Oh, I hope he’ll send +me more presents after he gets home!" + + + +Jan. 15—"Dr. Lacey has gone and I feel relieved. But just think of +it—Julia loves him devotedly. I wish he knew it. She has always loved him +and tries to make me do the same. She read me a sermon today two hours +long about my duty. Fudge on my duty! As long as I can make Joshua and Dr. +Lacey think I’m all sunshine, it’s no matter if my love is all moonshine." + + + +This journal was interspersed here and there with tears, and was so exact +an imitation of Fanny’s writing that Dr. Lacey was completely duped. He, +however, wondered that Julia should show it to him. She had foreseen this, +and as he was reading the last few lines she was looking over her +portfolio. Suddenly springing up, she snatched the paper from his hands, +saying, "Oh, what have I done? I’ve shown you the wrong part of the +journal. I did not mean you to see this. What shall I do? You’ll hate +Fanny and despise me." + +"Why despise you?" asked Dr. Lacey. + +"Because," replied Julia, "you will dislike me for the foolish thing which +Fan wrote about me. I could not help her writing it." + +"And is it true?" asked Dr. Lacey. + +"Oh, you must not ask me that—I can’t tell—I shan’t tell—" and seizing her +portfolio Julia started off toward the house, thinking possibly she should +be pursued. But she was not. + +During the reading of the journal Dr. Lacey’s heart seemed to go through a +benumbing process, which rendered it perfectly palsied. No emotion either +of love or anger did he feel toward Fanny. She was nought to him. + +And how did the knowledge that Julia loved him affect him? Answer, any +man, whether your wounded pride is never soothed by woman’s sympathy, and +love, come in what garb it may. And in Dr. Lacey’s case it was a being of +wondrous beauty, who knew well what she was about and had marked each inch +of ground ere she trod upon it. What marvel then that Dr. Lacey turned +toward her. You would have done so; ay, perchance sooner than he did. + +That evening after supper, as Dr. Lacey was walking upon the veranda, +Florence approached him, saying, "Come, Dr. Lacey, now fulfill your +promise of playing with Julia," at the same time leading him toward the +place where her companions were seated. "Now," said she, placing the +chessboard in his hands, "I am mistress of ceremonies. We will have a fair +understanding. If Julia beats, you shall be hers; if you beat, Mabel and +Lida shall draw cuts for you. Do you agree to it?" + +"Certainly," was Dr. Lacey’s reply, at the same time seating himself +opposite Julia, who gave him a look of searching inquiry. He understood +her and in a low tone answered, "I am in earnest. Do your best." + +And she did her best. With one strong effort of the will she concentrated +all her energies upon that game, which she felt would decide her fate. Dr. +Lacey, too, as if resolved to conquer, played most skillfully. The +bystanders for a time looked on, and as Lida noticed the livid hue of +Julia’s face, she said, "Pray, Julia, don’t burst a blood vessel, for +maybe Dr. Lacey will have you, even if you do not beat." + +But the ear she addressed was deaf save to the quiet sound of the +chessmen. The contest was long and severe. Nine, ten, eleven, struck the +little clock in the hall. One by one the spectators stole away. Florence’s +parting words were, "If Dr. Lacey beats, be sure and wake us, Julia, so +Mabel and Lida can draw cuts." + +And now they were alone. Once and only once Julia glanced at the face of +her antagonist. It was white and colorless as her own hand, which wandered +steadily over the chessboard. The final spell was upon him, and he seemed +striving hard to shake it off. ’Twas all in vain. The little clock struck +the hour of midnight. The game was ended. Julia had won. Dr. Lacey was +checkmated! + +With one hand he rapidly swept the board of its occupants, while the other +he extended toward Julia, saying: "Take it. ’Tis all I can offer, for you +well know I have no heart to give. My hand and name you have won—they are +yours." + +A person less intriguing or determined than Julia would have scorned to +receive a hand so coldly offered. But not so with her. She did not expect +any protestations of love, for she knew he felt none. Yet she was hardly +satisfied, and resolved upon one movement more ere she accepted what she +felt was reluctantly given. + +"You are mistaken in me," said she, "if you think I will play for a +husband, and then expect him to comply with the terms unless he chooses to +do so." + +Dr. Lacey replied, "When I consented to play, I knew what I was about, and +I knew, too, that you love me. I cannot say the same to you in return, but +you are far from being indifferent to me. When I first knew you I disliked +you, for I believed you to be passionate, jealous and designing; nor do I +think my opinion of you then was wrong; but you are changed, very much +changed. Continue to be what you are now, and we may be happy, for I may +learn to love you, but never as fondly, as madly, as I loved your sister; +ay, as I could love her again; but enough of this. She was false; she +deceived me, and now I will wed you." + +And what said Julia to all this? Why, she sat bolt upright, listening +attentively while Dr. Lacey expressed his former and present opinion of +her. When he had finished, she ventured to acknowledge her love for him; +said she had always loved him, and that as his wife she would try to make +him happy. Perhaps she was sincere in this, for she did love Dr. Lacey as +well as her selfish nature would suffer her to love any one, and she had +resolved, if she ever married him, to do all in her power to atone, if +possible, for the past. + +A half hour longer they conversed of the future, and arranged the plan, +which Julia next day wrote to her sister. At last Dr. Lacey exclaimed, +"Come, Julia, you must go now; it is getting late, for see,"—pointing to +the little clock; but as if astonished at what it had heard, the clock had +stopped! + + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + + STIRRING EVENTS + + +Great was Mr. Middleton’s surprise when informed by Dr. Lacey of his +engagement with Julia. Something in his countenance must have betrayed it, +for Dr. Lacey said, "You seem astonished, sir. Are you displeased?" + +"Certainly not; I am glad," answered Mr. Middleton. "Yet I confess I was +surprised, for I had never thought of such a thing. Once I had hoped you +would marry Fanny, but since Frank Cameron has rendered that impossible, +you cannot do better than take Julia. She is intelligent, accomplished and +handsome, and although she has some faults, your influence over her will +lead her to correct them." + +Unlike this was the reception which the intelligence met with from Dr. +Lacey’s negroes. + +"What that ar you sayin’," asked Aunt Dilsey of Rondeau, who was +communicating the important news to Leffie. + +"You’d better ask," replied Rondeau. "Who do you suppose Marster George is +goin’ to fetch here to crack our heads for us?" + +"Dun know—Miss Mabel, maybe," said Aunt Dilsey. + +"No, sir; Miss Mabel is bad enough, but she can’t hold a candle to this +one," answered Rondeau. + +"You don’t mean Miss July," shrieked rather than asked Aunt Dilsey. + +"I don’t mean nobody else, mother Dilsey," said Rondeau. + +Up flew Aunt Dilsey’s hands in amazement, and up rolled her eyes in +dismay. "I ’clar for’t," said she, "if Marster George has done made such a +fool of hisself, I hope she’ll pull his bar a heap worse than she did +Jack’s." + +"No danger but what she will, and yours too," was Rondeau’s consoling +reply. + +"Lord knows," said Aunt Dilsey, "fust time she sasses me, I’ll run away +long of Jack and the baby. I’ll tie up my new gown and cap in a +handkerchief this night." + +Leffie now proposed that her mother should defer her intended flight until +the arrival of the dreaded Julia, while Rondeau added, "Besides, Dilsey, +if you should run away your delicate body couldn’t get further than the +swamp, where you’d go in up to your neck first lunge, and all marster’s +horses couldn’t draw you out." + +This allusion to her size changed the current of Aunt Dilsey’s wrath, +which now turned and spent itself on Rondeau. Her impression of Julia, +however, never changed, although she was not called upon to run away. + +Mrs. Lacey, too, received the news of her son’s engagement with evident +dissatisfaction; but she thought remonstrance would be useless, and she +kept silent, secretly praying that Julia might prove better than her +fears. In due course of time there came from Kentucky a letter of +congratulation from Fanny; but she was so unaccustomed to say or write +what she did not feel that the letter, so far as congratulations were +concerned, was a total failure. She, however, denied her engagement with +Frank, and this, if nothing else, was sufficient reason why Julia refused +to show it to Dr. Lacey. Julia knew the chain by which she held him was +brittle and might at any time be broken, and it was not strange that she +longed for the last days of October, when with Dr. Lacey she would return +to Kentucky. + +They came at last, and one bright, cloudless morning Uncle Joshua got out +his carriage and proceeded to Frankfort, where, as he had expected, he met +Julia and his expected son-in-law. His greeting of the former was kind and +fatherly enough, but the moment he saw the latter, he felt, as he +afterward said, an almost unconquerable desire to flatten his nose, gouge +his eyes, knock out his teeth and so forth, which operations would +doubtless have greatly astonished Dr. Lacey and given him what almost +every man has, viz., a most formidable idea of his wife’s relations. + +He, however, restrained his wrath, and when, at a convenient time, Dr. +Lacey, with a few ominous "ahems" and made-up coughs, indicated his +intention of asking for Julia, Uncle Joshua cut him short by saying, +"Never mind, I know what you want. You may have her and welcome. I only +wish she would make as good a wife as you will husband. But mind now, when +you find out what for a fury you’ve got, don’t come whinin’ round me, for +I give you fa’r warnin’." + +Here Dr. Lacey thought proper to say that possibly Mr. Middleton did not +understand his daughter. + +"Not understand her?" repeated Mr. Middleton. "What’s to hinder? She’s my +own gal, and I like her well enough; but don’t I know she’s as fiery as a +baker’s oven?" + +"She is greatly changed," continued Dr. Lacey. "Don’t you give her credit +for that?" + +"Changed?" replied Mr. Middleton. "So’s lightnin’ changed! It’s one of her +tricks. Depend on it, you’ll find it so." And Mr. Middleton walked off in +search of his promising daughter. + +Strange as it may seem, the old man’s remarks had no other effect on Dr. +Lacey than to cause him to pity Julia, who he fancied was misunderstood +and misused. He believed her reformation to be sincere, and could not help +feeling that Mr. Middleton was mistaken in his opinion of both his +daughters. + +After tramping all over the house, banging doors and shouting at least a +dozen times, "Ho, Tempest, whar for gracious sakes are you?" Mr. Middleton +at length found his daughter in Mrs. Miller’s room consulting with Kate +about her bridal dress. Kate, too, was wholly deceived by Julia’s +gentleness and apparent frankness of manner, and readily complied with her +request that she should be with her the two days preceding the marriage, +for the purpose of assisting in the arrangement of affairs. This being +settled, Mr. Middleton and his daughter started for home, which they +reached about sunset. + +Julia leaped gayly from the carriage, and running into the house, embraced +her mother, and received the blacks as affectionately as Fanny herself +could have done; then missing her sister, she asked, "Where is Fan? Why +does she not come to meet me?" + +Mrs. Middleton looked inquiringly at her husband, who replied, "No, I +hain’t told her, jest because she didn’t ask me. Sunshine is sick—sick in +bed, and has had the potecary three times." + +"Fanny sick," said Julia. "Where is she? In her room? I will go to her +immediately." + +But in going to Fanny, it was necessary to pass the parlor, and Julia +could not resist the temptation to look in and see "if the old man had +fixed up any." + +"Oh, how neat, how pleasant!" was her first exclamation, and truly the +cheerless old room had undergone a great renovation. It had been +thoroughly cleaned and repainted. The walls were hung with bright, +cheerful-looking paper. A handsome carpet covered the floor, while +curtains of corresponding beauty shaded the windows. The furniture, +tastefully arranged, was nearly all new, and in the waxen flowers, which +filled the vases on the mantelpiece, Julia recognized the handiwork of her +sister. + +Yes, Fanny’s love had wrought this change. At first her father had refused +to do anything. "No, I won’t," said he. "It’s good enough, and if it don’t +suit Lady Tempest, she can go to the hoss barn; that’s just fit for ’em." + +"Then, father," said Fanny, "do it for my sake. It would please me to have +a pleasanter parlor." + +This was sufficient. A well-filled purse was placed in Fanny’s hands, with +liberty to do as she pleased. Then with untiring love, aching heart and +throbbing temples, she worked on day after day, until all was completed, +parlor, bridal chamber and all. The hangings and drapery of the latter +were as white and pure as was she who so patiently worked on, while each +fresh beauty added to the room pierced her heart with a deeper anguish, as +she thought what and whom it was for. When her mother remonstrated against +such unceasing toil, she would smile a sweet, sad smile and say, "Don’t +hinder me, dear mother, ’tis all I can do to show my love for Julia, and +after I am gone they will perhaps think more kindly of me, when they know +how I worked for them." + +At last all was done; the finishing stroke was given, and then came a +reaction. Fanny took her bed, and her father, instantly, alarmed, called +the nearest physician. Dr. Gordon readily saw that Fanny’s disease was in +her mind, and in reply to Mrs. Middleton’s inquiries, he frankly told his +opinion, and said that unless the cause of her melancholy could be +removed, the consequence might be fatal. + +"Don’t tell my husband," said Mrs. Middleton, "his life is bound up in +Fanny, and the day that sees her dead will, I fear, also make me a widow." +Accordingly, Mr. Middleton was deceived into a belief that Fanny’s illness +was the result of over-exertion, and that she would soon recover. + +In a day or two she seemed better, but was not able to come downstairs. +Instead, she had no desire or intention of doing so until after the +wedding, for she felt she could not, would not, see Dr. Lacey for the +world. Since the receipt of her sister’s letter she had been given a +holier love, a firmer faith, than aught on earth can bestow, and she was +now under the influence of religion; of lasting, true religion. This then +was the reason why she welcomed her sister so affectionately, and felt no +emotion either of resentment or anger toward those who were thus trampling +on the bleeding fibers of her heart. + +As Julia kissed the almost transparent brow of her sister, and clasped her +thin, white fingers, tears gathered in her eyes and she thought, "This +ruin have I wrought, and for it I must answer"; but not long did she ever +suffer her conscience to trouble her, and the next hour she was chatting +away to Fanny about the preparations for her wedding, which was to take +place one week from that day. Fanny listened as one who heard not. She was +praying for more grace, more strength to endure yet a little longer. + +Slowly to Julia dragged the days of that week, while to Fanny they sped on +rapid wing. And now everything within and without the house betokened the +coming event. Servants scampered hither and thither, thinking they were +doing it all, while in reality they were doing nothing. Mrs. Middleton +scolded the blacks, and Uncle Joshua scolded Mrs. Middleton, at the same +time walking mechanically from the kitchen to the parlor, from the parlor +to Fanny’s sick room and from Fanny’s sick room back to the kitchen, +occasionally kicking from his path some luckless kitten, dog or black +baby, which latter set up most lusty yells, just to vary the scene. + +In the midst of all this Fanny lay calmly and quietly on her low bed, +counting each succeeding sun as it rose and set, bringing nearer and +nearer a day she so much dreaded. True to her promise, Kate Miller came +two days before the wedding. Fanny was asleep when she entered the room to +see her, but on the white, wasted face Kate’s tears fell as she said, +"Poor Fanny! I did not know she was so ill." + +Mr. Middleton, who was present, muttered: "Yes, cursed be the one who made +her so!" He knew not that he cursed his own child. + +The next day Mr. William Middleton arrived, bringing the intelligence that +Florence and Mabel had accompanied him, and would next evening be present +at the wedding. Slowly the last rays of a bright October sun faded in the +west, giving no sign of the stormy day which was to succeed. Long after +midnight a lone watcher sat by the window in Fanny’s room, gazing at the +stars, which looked so quietly on from their distant homes, and praying, +not for herself, but for Dr. Lacey, that he might be happy with her he had +chosen. At last, chilled with the night air, she crept shivering to her +pillow, nor woke again until aroused by the fierce moaning of the autumn +wind, which shook the casement, and by the sound of the driving rain which +beat against the pane. Yes, the morning which dawned on Julia’s bridal day +was wild and stormy, but before noon the clouds cleared away and the +afternoon was dry, hot and oppressive, a precursor to the mightier and +more wrathful storm which followed. + +About five o’clock there was a noise in the yard, and Kate, who was in +Fanny’s room, arranging her young friend’s hair, looked from the window +and said, "It is Dr. Lacey. Julia has looked for him for more than three +hours." + +Quickly Fanny hurried to the window. She could not meet Dr. Lacey face to +face, but she wished to look at him once more. She was too late, however. +He had entered the house, and soon the sound of his voice reached her ear. +He had not been there long ere he asked for Fanny. + +On being told she was sick, he seemed rather disturbed. Possibly, however, +he felt relieved to know she would not be present when he took upon him +vows which should have been breathed to her. Ashton, Florence and Mabel +now arrived, and soon after came Mr. and Mrs. Stanton, accompanied by Mrs. +Carrington, who had been invited because it would not do to slight her, +and who came because she had a mind to! + +The ceremony was to take place at seven o’clock, and guests each moment +arrived, until the parlor seemed almost full. Alone in her chamber sat +Fanny, listening to the sounds of mirth, which grated on her ear. Night, +dark and stormy, was gathering over the earth, but a darker night lay +round the heart of the young girl, as she watched from her pillow a dense, +black pile of clouds, which had appeared in the west, and now increased +until the whole sky was overspread, as with a pall of darkness, while +distant peals of muttered thunder announced the coming storm. + +And now louder roared the howling wind and brighter the glaring lightning +flashed, while fiercer grew the conflict in Fanny’s bosom. Her faith was +weak, and well nigh blotted with tears of human weakness. But He, whose +power could stay the storm without, could also still the agony within, and +o’er the troubled waters of that aching heart there fell a peaceful calm. + +Suddenly the door opened and a creature of wondrous, dazzling beauty +appeared. It was Julia, in her bridal robe. She would fain have her +sister’s blessing ere she descended to the parlor. The struggle was over +and the blessing which Fanny gave her sister was sincere, but when Julia +asked forgiveness for all the evil she had ever done, the reply was +prevented by a crash of thunder so terrific that Julia trembled with +terror, and hastily left the room. + +In a moment there was a light step upon the stair. Fanny knew it was Dr. +Lacey, for he soon returned with Julia, and as they passed her door she +heard the merry laugh of Florence, who was bridesmaid. In an instant they +were in the parlor, throughout which a general gloom seemed to reign. +Perhaps it was owing to the wildness of the storm, which each moment +increased in fury. The bridal party took their places and Uncle Joshua +shut his eyes, while the marriage ceremony commenced. + + ------------------------------------- + +The reader may now accompany me to the border of yonder wood, where stands +a low-roofed building, the property of Mrs. Dunn. There in a darkened room +lay the widow’s only son, raving in the madness of delirium. The fever +flame burned in each vein, and as he tossed from side to side he would +shriek out, "Quick, I tell you or you are too late. She must not wed him. +Don’t you know she’s doubly, trebly steeped in guilt? Go quick, I tell +you, and stop it." + +Mrs. Dunn could only weep, for she knew not, dreamed not, what her son +could mean. Soon he grew calm, and fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke +Billy Jeffrey, who lived near, was sitting by him. To Mrs. Dunn’s delight, +Joseph was sane, and calling her to him he said, "Isn’t Julia Middleton to +be married tonight?" + +"She is," answered his mother. + +"At what hour?" + +"At seven." + +"What time is it now?" + +"Half-past six," replied Mrs. Dunn. + +"It must not be," said Joseph, and turning to Bill he added, "listen, +William, to what I have to tell, then speed along on the lightning’s wing, +and tear her from the altar—take her from his side, I say, and put there +the other one, the pale, golden-haired one"; then, as he noticed the +vacant look on Bill’s face, he added, "oh, no, you can’t tell it. You +wouldn’t understand it. Mother, bring me a pen and some paper." + +The paper was brought, and as soon as possible Joseph wrote a confession +of his own and Julia’s guilt. "Now, Bill," said he, "run for your life, +and give this to Dr. Lacey. Do it for the sake of Fanny." + +Bill needed no second bidding. His obtuse intellect had gathered that in +some way Fanny was in danger, and away he flew over bushes, briers, rocks +and ditches. But alas! The way was long and dark, and ere he was aware of +it, he was precipitated into one of the sink holes which are so common in +the limestone soil of Kentucky. The fall sprained his ankle, but gathering +himself up, he continued on, slowly and painfully. + +Meantime delirium had again crept over Joseph Dunn, and he forgot that he +sent Billy, but concluded he must go himself. Watching a time when his +mother was from the room, he rose, and throwing on his double gown, went +forth into the storm, and was soon far on his road toward Mr. Middleton. + + ------------------------------------- + +The man of God had scarcely finished the second paragraph of the Episcopal +ceremony, beginning with, "I require and charge you both," etc., when a +shriek, wild and unearthly and horrid, rent the air. It was succeeded by a +thunder crash so deafening that the ladies paled with terror. The large +maple tree, which stood by the front door, and which Julia had called +hers, was shivered by lightning, but no one heeded it, for again was heard +that fearful, maniacal shriek, and this time could be distinguished the +sound as of some one struggling with the blacks, who were huddled together +in the hall. + +"Let me go, I tell you," said the voice. "It shall not go on!" + +All eyes turned toward the door, as Joseph Dunn appeared, shouting, "Stop +it! Stop it! She forged those letters. She broke her sister’s heart. Stop +it, I say!" Every person in the room seemed terror-stricken at the wild +spectacle he presented. His face, wasted to a mere skeleton, was ghastly +white, while his long yellow hair hung in matted locks about his brow, and +a look of wild frenzy was in his eye, as darting toward the paralyzed +Julia, he seized her as with a lion’s grasp and shook her most furiously. + +Bill Jeffrey was close behind. He had lost his hat and the rain had soaked +his thick hair until it clung closely to his head, giving him, too, a +strange appearance. Mr. William Middleton now came forward to ask an +explanation of Joseph, who, chancing to see Bill, said, "He’s got the +letter—my confession. Read that—I am too exhausted," and he fell upon the +floor. + +No one noticed him, for all gazed intently at Bill, who drew from his +pocket a paper and presented it to Dr. Lacey. In a calm, clear voice, Dr. +Lacey read aloud the confession, in the midst of thunder, lightning, +groans, cries and oaths, the latter of which were the spontaneous +production of Uncle Joshua, who sat still in his chair until the +confession was read through; then with one bound he reached Julia, and +raising her from the floor, said, "Speak, Satan, and tell if this is +true!" + +Julia was overtaken, surrounded on all sides, and there was no way of +escape. Mechanically, she answered, "I am guilty," while a burst of +execration ran round the room. A stifled moan of agony came from Dr. +Lacey’s parted lips, and he asked in a voice which plainly told his +suffering, "Oh, why was I suffered to go thus far? Why, why did no one +write?" + +"I did," answered Mrs. Miller. + +"And I, too," repeated Mrs. Carrington, "but you spurned my letter and +treated me with contempt." + +"Never, never," scarcely articulated Dr. Lacey. "I never received them; +but call Rondeau; he must know something of it." + +Rondeau, who had accompanied his master, was called. Explanation followed +explanation, testimony crowded upon testimony, and Julia acknowledged all, +until at length Dr. Lacey, frantic with the sense of wrong done him, +turned to her and said, "Base woman, why have you done this? Your sin has +found you out ere it was too late; for, thank God, you are not my wife, +nor ever will be!" + +Julia now lost all command of herself. Tearing the bridal veil from her +brow, she rent it in twain; then from her arm she snatched her diamond +bracelet, and trampled it under her feet, while a stream of blood issued +from her mouth and stained her white satin dress. A moment more, and she +too was extended on the floor by the side of her ally. + +Where during this exciting scene was Fanny? The direful sounds had reached +her ear, and now at the head of the stairs she listened to the Babel which +reigned in the parlor. High above all other voices she distinguished her +father’s, who, in his uncontrollable fury, was calling to use all the +oaths he had ever heard of, besides manufacturing some expressly for the +occasion! Then there was a heavy fall, accompanied by a cry from Mrs. +Middleton of, "Lift her up—carry her out. Don’t you see she is dying?" + +Fanny hesitated no longer, but quickly descending the stairs, she forced +her way through the blacks into the parlor, where she stood appalled at +the scene before her. On the floor lay Julia, who a few moments before +stood there resplendent in beauty. Near her sat the maniac, Joseph Dunn. +He had recovered from his fainting fit, and was now crouching over the +prostrate form of Julia, laughing in delirious glee, as he wiped from her +lips the red drops of blood! In a corner of the room a group had gathered, +near an open window, through which they were bearing an inanimate object. +It was Florence, who had fainted, and as it seemed impossible to effect a +passage through the hall, so filled was it with terrified servants, they +had sought the window as the best means of egress. + +Suddenly over that excited assembly there came a deep silence. It was +caused by the appearance of Fanny, who, with her loose white muslin +wrapper, and long curls, which floated over her shoulders, seemed like +some being from another world, come to stay that storm of passion. Mabel, +who was occupied with her cousin, looked back as the calm hush fell upon +them, and then and there she first saw Fanny Middleton. The scene was too +much for Fanny, and she, too, would have fainted had not Dr. Lacey caught +her in his arms. Clasping her slight form passionately to his bosom, he +exclaimed, "My own—my Fanny—my wife, for such you are, and such you will +be!" + +Mr. William Middleton and Mr. Miller, who were bearing Julia from the +room, now passed them. Dr. Lacey glanced once at the corpse-like face over +which the heavy braids of long black hair had fallen, then with a shudder +he again strained Fanny to his heart, saying, "Thank God, thank God, I +escaped her in time!" Then turning to the minister, who all this time had +stood looking on in mute astonishment, he added, in an authoritative +manner, "Go on with the ceremony, sir, and make her my wife." But a new +thought entering his mind, he released Fanny, and said, "Pardon me, dear +Fanny; sorrow has well nigh bereft me of my senses. In my first joy in +finding you innocent, I forgot that you could not be mine, for you belong +to another—to Mr. Cameron." + +"Cameron go to Thunder!" exclaimed Uncle Joshua, who was still standing +near. "That’s another of Tempest’s lies. She never was engaged to him; +never loved him, or any other mortal man, save yourself." + +Here, Fanny, who, it will be remembered, was all this time ignorant of the +truth, asked if some one would not explain what she saw and heard. "I +will," said Dr. Lacey, "it is my duty to do so," and he led her to a +window, where he hurriedly told her all—everything which he himself knew, +intermingling his words with so much passionate embraces that his sanity +was much to be doubted. He had scarcely finished his story when Kate +approached him, saying, "For humanity’s sake, Dr. Lacey, if you have any +skill, exert it in behalf of Julia, who seems to be dying." + +Dr. Lacey arose, and winding his arm about Fanny, as if afraid he might +lose sight of her, moved toward the room where Julia lay. They had borne +her to the bridal chamber, which Fanny had arranged with so much care, and +as Dr. Lacey appeared at the door, Uncle Joshua met him and said, "I know +she sarved you mean, but I would not have her die. She is my own child, +and you must save her if you can." At the same time he pointed to Julia, +who lay in the same death-like trance, with the blood still issuing slowly +from her livid lips. All that Dr. Lacey could do, he did, but when Dr. +Gordon arrived, he gladly gave up his charge to him, and turned his +attention toward Fanny, who, overcome by what she had seen and heard, had +fainted, and been carried to her own room, where she was surrounded by +Mrs. Carrington, Florence and Mabel. These ladies ran against each other, +upset the camphor bottle, dropped the lamp and spilled half the cologne, +in their zealous efforts to take care of their patient! + +In the midst of their confusion Dr. Lacey entered, and they immediately +gave up to him the task of restoring her. This he soon did, for it would +seem that his very voice had a power to recall Fanny’s suspended +faculties. Slowly her eyes unclosed; then, as if wearied out, she again +closed them, and for a time slept sweetly, calmly, on Dr. Lacey’s bosom. + +The guests now began to depart, and Bill Jeffrey, who had been sent to +inform Mrs. Dunn of her son, returned with some of the neighbors, and +carried Joseph away. Owing to the darkness of the night, the company from +Frankfort remained until morning, but no eyelid closed in sleep. With +maternal solicitude, Mrs. Middleton sat by the bedside of her daughter +Julia, whose eyes opened once, but on seeing Dr. Lacey standing near by, +she closed them again with a shudder, and a faint wail of anguish escaped +her. She had ruptured a small blood vessel, but Dr. Gordon said there was +no danger if she could be kept quiet for a few days. + +Uncle Joshua thus relieved from alarm concerning her, walked back and +forth from her room to Fanny’s swearing that he "knew the devil was let +loose that night for his special benefit, and that he had come up there to +see how much of a row he could get up!" + +"He succeeded admirably, I think," said Florence, who, having recovered +from her first fright, was now ready to extract whatever fun could be +gathered from the surrounding circumstances. + +In the kitchen the blacks canvassed the matter after their fashion. Aunt +Judy lamented because none of the tempting supper in the dining room was +touched, while Bob did not fail to turn his usual round of somersaults, +thus evincing his joy that so many good things were left for him to eat, +"’Cause," said he, "in course we allus has all that comes off the table." + +Aunt Katy took occasion to lecture the young black girls on the awful sin +of "conceit," as she called it, pointing them for an example to Julia, +"who," she said, "would most likely have to live an old maid all her +days." She couldn’t have threatened a worse punishment, for many of the +negresses had already their own preferences in favor of certain mulatto +boys on their master’s plantation and others adjoining. + +Rondeau seemed to think his sympathy was only needed by his young master, +whom he looked upon as a much-abused man. From the first he had felt great +contempt for the old house, its master, servants and all; and had come to +the conclusion that "they were of no ’count anyhow." This opinion would +doubtless have been reserved for Leffie’s ear had not affairs taken so +unexpected a turn. Now, however, Rondeau felt at liberty to express his +mind so freely that Ike considered it his duty to resent the insult. + +A regular negro fight ensued, in which Aunt Katy, who was not very active, +was thrown down, and as she loudly protested, "every atom of breath was +kicked out of her." + +The big chicken pie was also turned over into Rondeau’s new hat, greatly +to the satisfaction of Tiger and the other dogs, who had mingled in the +fracas! The riot was finally quelled by Mr. William Middleton and Dr. +Lacey, Uncle Joshua declaring he "wouldn’t interfere that night if the +niggers all fit till they killed themselves." + + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + + JULIA IS FOUND DROWNED + + +The morning which succeeded the events narrated in the last chapter was +clear and bright. Nature, beautiful as ever, looked as if laughing +defiance at the fearful storm which so lately had swept over the earth. +Beautifully over hill and valley fell the sun’s red rays, but when they +penetrated the dwelling of Mr. Middleton, they shone on the anxious, +careworn faces of those who had been sleepless during the dark hours of +that dreadful night. Even the merry-hearted Florence seemed sad and +spiritless as she hurried from room to room, urging Ashton to accelerate +their departure. By eight o’clock the last guest was gone. Around the old +stone house a gloomy silence settled, broken only by the heavy tramp of +Uncle Joshua, whose cowhides came down with a vengeance, as up and down +the yard he strode, talking to Dr. Lacey, who walked by his side. + +"Now," said he, "if this isn’t a little the all-firedest muss a feller +ever got into, Josh ain’t no judge. Of course the papers have nothing to +do but flout it all over the country. For myself I don’t care a copper, +but ’twill be mighty mortifyin’ to you, though I think you desarve some +mortifyin’, for how in thunder a chap of your sense ever come to be made +such a precious fool of is more’n I can tell." + +"If you knew all the arts she employed, you would not wonder quite so +much," said Dr. Lacey. And Mr. Middleton answered, "Know all her arts? +Don’t I know ’em? Don’t I know that she rummaged heaven and arth for ways +and means?" + +"I hardly think she went to the former place for assistance," said Dr. +Lacey; and Mr. Middleton continued, "You are right, but I’ll be bound +Satan hadn’t any tricks but what he told her of. ’Pears like she’s been +possessed ever since she first opened her big black eyes in the very room +where the row was last night. Oh, how happy I was," he continued, "when I +took her in my arms a little baby, and knew she was mine and Nancy’s, and +thought what a comfort she’d be to me; but George, I tell you what," said +he, as he placed one hand on Dr. Lacey’s arm and passed the other through +the grizzled locks which lay around his brow, "I tell you what, these gray +hairs come a heap too soon, and all for her, for her. Oh, Julia, Julia, +what trouble have you not caused me!" and in his hands Uncle Joshua buried +his face, while through his large red fingers the tears trickled slowly, +and fell upon the ground. For a moment he wept, and then wiping his eyes, +said, "But wasn’t it lucky that long-legged, salmon-colored Joe got here +as he did! Another minute and you’d have been clinched, but now the +tempest has blowed over, and for the rest of your life you’ll have nothing +but sunshine." + +The overseer now approached to ask orders concerning a piece of work in +which the negroes were employed. Mr. Middleton accompanied him to the +field, while Dr. Lacey returned to the house in quest of Fanny. He was +told that she was with Julia, and with an involuntary shudder, he +approached the chamber which contained one who had well nigh been his +wife! His wife! The very idea filled him with loathing when associated +with her, and still he pitied the suffering girl, who, divested of her +bridal attire, now lay moaning in pain. With coming day had come a burning +fever, which increased so rapidly that Dr. Gordon shook his head when +questioned as to the result. + +The change of affairs had also wrought a change in Fanny, who seemed and +really was better than she had been for many days. Gladly would she have +stayed with Dr. Lacey, but she felt that duty called her to Julia’s +bedside. With unwearying devotion she hung over the pillow of her sister, +who seemed more quiet when she knew Fanny was near. Once she looked +wistfully in her face, and appeared as if anxious to speak, but Fanny +gently laid her hand on her lips, saying, "No, no, Julia; you must not." + +She did, however, and the word "forgive" met Fanny’s ear. Had Fanny been +less of a Christian, forgiveness might have been hard, but now she +answered sincerely, truthfully, "As I hope for pardon in heaven, so do I +forgive you for the great wrong you have done me." + +At the mention of the word "heaven," Julia shuddered, and after a time +repeated, "Heaven! You will find it, but I—never—never!" + +Earnestly then did Fanny speak of a Savior’s love, which receives all, +pardons all, who come to him. Julia shook her head despairingly, and as +the conversation seemed to annoy her, Fanny ceased talking, while a voice +behind her said, "Teach me, too, the way of life, for I fear I have never +walked in it." + +It was Dr. Lacey, who, unobserved by either of the girls, had entered and +been a listener to what Fanny said. As Julia heard the sound of voices she +turned toward him a look so imploring, so full of contrition and entreaty, +that he was moved, and approaching the bedside, took the vacant seat near +Fanny. But he did not, like her, breathe words of forgiveness, for his +heart was full of bitterness toward her. As he sat there, gazing coldly, +sternly at her, she again spoke, "If you can, if you will only forgive +me." + +Dr. Lacey’s brow grew dark and his manner excited, as he replied, "Forgive +you! In time I may learn to do so, but to forget will take me my lifetime, +and yet I blame myself not less than I do you for having been so duped." + +A low sob was Julia’s only answer as Dr. Lacey arose to leave, announcing +to Fanny his intention of visiting Joseph Dunn, who was said to be dying. +As he entered the house where Joseph lay, tossing in feverish agony, the +sick man’s eyes glared wildly upon him as he shrieked, "Why have you come +to taunt me with my crime? Is it not enough that the room is full of +little devils who creep over my pillow, and shout in my ear as they hold +to view the letters I withheld? I did not do it alone. She bribed me with +gold, and now when I am dead, who will take care of my mother? She will be +cold when the winter winds blow, and hungry when the summer corn ripens." + +Dr. Lacey drew nearer to him and stooping down, whispered, "Is your mother +very poor and you all her dependence?" + +"Yes, yes," answered Joseph, whose almost only virtue was the love he bore +his mother. + +"Fear not, then," said Dr. Lacey, "I will care for her; for though you did +me a great wrong, you saved me from being today the most wretched of men." + +That night as the October sun went down there was heard beneath that +lonely roof the piteous cry of a widowed mother, for Joseph, her +first-born, her only child, was dead. Next day they buried him, as is +frequently the custom in Kentucky, beneath a large shade tree in the +garden. Many words of sympathy were spoken to the bereaved mother, but +none fell so soothingly on her ear as did those of Dr. Lacey, who was +present at the funeral, and led the weeping mother to the grave. + +After the burial was over he whispered to her, "I will surely remember +you, for, erring though your son may have been, I owe him a debt of +gratitude." So saying, he walked hastily away toward Mr. Middleton’s, +where he was met by alarmed faces, soft footsteps, and subdued whispers. +In reply to his inquiries, he was told by Aunt Judy, that "somehow or +’nother, Miss Julia had got wind of Mr. Dunn’s death, and it had gone to +her head, makin’ her ravin’ mad, and the doctor said she wouldn’t get +well." + +Aunt Judy was right; Julia had accidently heard of Mr. Dunn’s death, and +it added greatly to the nervous excitement which she was already +suffering, and when Dr. Gordon came he was surprised to find the dangerous +symptoms of his patient increased to an alarming extent. The fever had +settled upon her brain, and for many days she lay at the very gates of +death. + +Incessantly she talked of Dr. Lacey, Fanny and Mr. Wilmot, the latter of +whom, in her disordered imagination, was constantly pursuing her. "Go +back—go back to your grave," she would say; "there are tears enough shed +for you, but none will fall for me when I am dead. He will laugh and be +glad, and the first moon that shines on my grave will light the marriage +train to the altar." Then, as if the phantom still were near her, she +would cry out, "Take him away, I tell you! What have I to do with coffins, +and white faces, and broken hearts? I killed him, I know, and he loved me, +too, as no one else ever has, but I madly loved another, and now he hates +me, spurns me!" Then turning to Fanny she would say, "I broke your heart +too, and still pressed on when I saw it was killing you, but you forgave +me, and now you must plead with him, who loves the air you breathe, to +think compassionately of me. I do not ask him to love me, for I know that +is impossible; but he can, at least, forgive and forget the past." + +Sometimes she would speak of her father, saying, "He will be glad when the +tempest is still and ceases to trouble him, for he never loved me, never +spoke to me as he did to Fanny. I know I did not deserve his love, but I +should have been better if he had given me a little, yes, just a little." + +"God knows she speaks the truth," said Uncle Joshua, wiping away the tears +he was not ashamed to weep. "I have been mighty hard on her, but I never +s’posed she cared." + +Such were the scenes which daily occurred in Julia’s sick room until at +last, from utter exhaustion, she became still, and for many days she lay +in a dreamy kind of sleep. + +"Will she live?" asked Mr. Middleton of Dr. Gordon, as he one day left the +sick room. + +"With proper care, I think she may," was the answer; and then Dr. Lacey +again urged the request he had once before made of Mr. Middleton. + +But Uncle Joshua answered, "No, George, wait a little longer. Nuthin’ ’ll +come betwixt you again, I reckon, and I wouldn’t have you marry her while +t’other one is so low." + +So Dr. Lacey was obliged to wait, but though he would much rather have +remained near Fanny he deemed it expedient to change his abode and remove +to Mrs. Crane’s. He was partly induced to do this on Rondeau’s account, +who, being Ike’s sworn enemy, was the cause of no little annoyance to Mr. +Middleton, who, with his negroes, was much nettled by the air of +superiority which that young gentleman thought proper to assume. + +Greatly was Rondeau delighted to exchange the crazy old stone house, with +its corn-bread and fried bacon, for Mrs. Crane’s elegant place, with its +oyster soups and ice creams, a part of which the head cook always reserved +for the "colored gentleman from New Orleans," who assured her, that though +when at home he didn’t exactly eat at the same table with his master, he +still lived on the top shelf! Not long, however, did Rondeau enjoy his new +quarters, for about that time Mr. William Middleton returned to New +Orleans, and Dr. Lacey sent with him his servant Rondeau, nothing loath to +return home, for Leffie’s face of late had haunted him not a little. + +Dr. Lacey’s return to Mrs. Crane’s gave great satisfaction to Mrs. +Carrington, who, though she had no hopes of winning him, still, to use her +own words, "took great delight in reminding him of the snare into which he +had fallen, notwithstanding his profound wisdom and boasted foresight." It +required all the good breeding he was master of to answer politely when, +after returning from a visit to Mr. Middleton’s, she would jeeringly ask +him concerning "his bride’s health!" + +But Mrs. Carrington’s levity was brought to an end by an unforeseen +circumstance. It was now six weeks since the evening of the denouement, +and Julia’s health was so much improved that Dr. Lacey began to speak +confidently of the day when Fanny would be his own. Uncle Joshua had given +his consent, and preparations for the marriage had actually commenced, +when Julia, in whose room Mrs. Middleton had been in the habit of +sleeping, insisted upon being left alone. "I am well now," she said, "and +do not need you." + +Mrs. Middleton was finally persuaded, but charged her daughter to be sure +and call her if she wished for her during the night. + +Over Julia’s face a meaning smile flitted as she answered, "I hope to +trouble no one much longer," but it was unnoticed by Mrs. Middleton, and +Julia was left alone. Early next morning Luce went as usual to make a fire +for her young mistress, after which she softly drew back the bed curtains +to see if Julia slept. She was surprised to find no Julia there, neither +were there signs of her having been there during the night. With a loud +cry Luce summoned to the room both Mr. and Mrs. Middleton, the former of +whom on seeing how matters stood, exclaimed, "So ho! Up to her tricks +again. I thought she couldn’t hold good long." + + "’The de’il when sick, a saint would be, + But when he got well, the de’il a saint was he.’" + +"Don’t, husband," said Mrs. Middleton; "perhaps she will never come back +alive, and then you will be sorry." + +Uncle Joshua readily guessed his wife’s meaning, and turning to Luce, +said, "Rout out the whole gang and set ’em to huntin’." + +In less than two hours scores of men on horseback were seen hunting in all +directions, looking, as Bob expressed it, "for all the world like they was +huntin’ a runaway." + +Ere long the news reached Frankfort, causing Mrs. Carrington to sneeringly +advise Dr. Lacey "by all means to join in the hunt." He deigned her no +reply, but mounting his horse took the road to Mr. Middleton’s, where he +was welcomed with tears by Mrs. Middleton and Fanny, whose fears he strove +to allay. + +Meanwhile the search went on, headed by Uncle Joshua, who, late in the +afternoon, unconsciously led a part of the company to the banks of the +river, not far from a point called Woodford Landing. Dismounting, he +strolled along the shore for several rods, when suddenly a loud cry turned +toward him the attention of the party. Near the water’s edge he had +discovered a shawl, which he knew belonged to Julia, and near by lay a +pair of slippers, on the inside of which her name was marked. Instantly +the conviction flashed upon all—Julia was drowned! + +Upon a large flat rock Uncle Joshua sat down, while his long gray locks +were tossed by the November wind which swept mournfully by, bearing on its +wing the bitter tones with which the stricken father bewailed his loss. +"Everything goes ag’in me," said he, "everything—she’s dead and, worse +than all, died by her own hand." Then, as if void of reason, he arose, and +over the craggy hillside and down the dark, rolling river echoed the loud, +shrill cry of, "Julia, Julia, oh, my child! Come back, come back! Why was +you left to break your old father’s heart?" And to that wail of sorrow +only the moaning wind replied, and faster the waters of the Kentucky +rolled on. + +They took the old man home, and long weary days went by, during which the +river near the landing was dragged again and again, and still no trace of +the missing girl was found. Then, as hope began to whisper that possibly +she was not dead, the papers far and near contained advertisements for +her, and by the side of that appeared another for a lunatic girl, who had +escaped from the asylum at Lexington. + +Four weeks went by, and the waters of the Kentucky frowned angrily "in the +gray December light," making Uncle Joshua shudder whenever he chanced to +pass by, and thought perhaps his daughter lay sleeping in their cold +embrace. A gloomy drizzly day was settling into a dark rainy night, when +two young men, who, either for business or pleasure, had rowed across the +river some miles from Woodford Landing, started to return home. They had +stepped into their boat and were about pushing off when among some +driftwood which lay not far from the shore, they thought they descried a +female’s garment floating on the water. The spot was soon reached, and to +their horror they discovered the body of a young girl, which, from its +appearance, must have been in the water some time. They had heard the +story of Julia, and readily concluded that the bloated, disfigured form +before them must have been she. Taking her to the nearest dwelling, they +dispatched a messenger for Mr. Middleton, who, now that his worst fears +were confirmed, seemed paralyzed with the shock. + +"Oh, I cannot go!" said he, "I cannot. Is there no one to do it for me?" + +Dr. Lacey, who chanced to be present, said, "For your sake, sir, and for +Fanny’s, I will go." + +"God bless you, George!" answered Mr. Middleton, and in a few moments Dr. +Lacey departed. + +With a thrill of horror he looked upon the swollen, discolored face, round +which the long black hair clung, matted and slimy from being so long +saturated with water, and thought that this was once the beautiful Julia, +though now so fearfully changed that no one could possibly have recognized +her. Owing to the state which the body was in, Dr. Lacey thought proper to +produce a coffin before removing her home; consequently it was nearly ten +o’clock the following morning ere the little procession slowly entered the +yard, from which, with wonderful forethought, Mr. Middleton had ordered to +be removed some half dozen carts, corn cribs, etc. Fanny was pressing +forward to look at her unfortunate sister, when Dr. Lacey, gently but +firmly, led her away, saying, "No, Fanny, you must not see her. The sight +would haunt you for months and years." Then, as her tears fell fast, he +strove in various way to divert her mind from Julia’s untimely end. + +About noon a middle-aged man came to the house and asked permission to see +the body. His request was granted, but he almost immediately turned away +from the coffin, saying, by way of explanation, "I am the father of the +maniac girl who some time since escaped from Lexington, and I thought +perhaps this might be my daughter; but it is not, and even if it were I +could not recognize her." + +On Mr. Middleton’s farm, and not far from the house, was a small yard +which had been enclosed as a burial place for the family. On this spot +Fanny had expended much time and labor. Roses and honeysuckles ever +bloomed there for a season, while the dark evergreen and weeping willow +waved their branches and beckoned the passer-by to rest beneath their +shadow. In one corner was a tall forest maple, where Julia and Fanny often +had played, and where Fanny once, when dangerously ill in childhood, had +asked to be laid. As yet no mound had rendered that spot dearer for the +sake of the lost one who slept there, but now in the scarcely frozen +ground the ringing of the spade was heard; shovelful after shovelful of +earth was thrown up, and into that cold, damp grave, as the sun was +setting, they lowered the remains of Julia, who once little thought that +she first of all would break the turf of the family graveyard. + +That night was fast merging into the hours of morning ere the sound of +Uncle Joshua’s footsteps ceased, as again and again he traversed the +length and breadth of his sleeping room, occasionally stopping before the +window and peering out in the darkness toward the spot where he knew lay +that newly-made grave. Memory was busily at work, and in the events which +marked Julia’s short life, oh, how much he saw for which to blame himself. +Remorse mingled in the old man’s cup of affliction, and while the hot +tears rolled down his cheeks he exclaimed, "If she could only come back +and I could do it over, I’d love her more, and maybe she’d be better. But +I treated her mean. I gin her only harsh words and cross looks." Then as +his wife’s tears mingled with his, he took her hand, saying, "Don’t take +on so, Nancy, you’ve nothin’ to cry for. You’s always good to her and kind +o’ took up for her when I got sot ag’in her." + +Mrs. Middleton could only answer by her tears to this touching attempt at +sympathy, but she finally succeeded in quieting her husband, and before +daybreak, he had forgotten in sleep the injustice done to Julia. All +thoughts of Fanny’s marriage for the present were of course given up, +although Mr. Middleton promised that when the autumn came round again he +would surely give his treasure to the care of another. + +Two weeks after Julia’s burial, all of which time was passed at Mr. +Middleton’s, Dr. Lacey went back to New Orleans, having first placed in +Mr. Middleton’s care a sum of money for the benefit of Mrs. Dunn, +promising Fanny that with the spring he would come again. He bade her +adieu, praying that nothing might come between them again. Heavily now +dragged the days at Mr. Middleton’s, until Uncle Joshua hit upon a plan +which would not only give pleasure to Fanny, but would also relieve the +tedium of his own life. It was nothing more nor less than the erection of +a new house on a grassy lawn, which Fanny had frequently pointed out as +being a good location. Long he revolved in his mind the for and against, +but the remembrance of Julia’s wish to have the "old shell fixed up," +finally decided him. "If ’twasn’t good enough for her to be married in, it +surely wasn’t good enough for Sunshine." + +At the breakfast table he first announced his intention, causing Fanny in +her surprise and joy not only to drop her knife, but also to upset her +coffee. "All right," said he, "I’ll do it, if it breaks me. We’ll have a +buster," said he, "marble mantletrys, windows that come to the floor, +Brussels carpets, and if you’re a mind to, you may have them four-legged +split things, though, Lord knows I’ll never eat with them." + +In a short time the necessary arrangements were completed. A large number +of men were hired and matters progressed so rapidly that there was every +probability of the house being completed early in June, should the winter +season prove favorable. + +Here we may as well relate a little circumstance which occurred to Fanny +during the winter. Bill Jeffrey, who, it will be remembered, had always +felt a predilection for her, emboldened by the kindness of her manner, now +determined to make his wishes known. Accordingly, he sent her numerous +little cakes of maple sugar, besides giving her many knowing winks, his +usual method of showing his preference. + +As she was one day strolling in the woods she suddenly encountered Bill, +who thought this was as favorable an opportunity as he would probably +have. He was rather awkward and unaccustomed to love-making, but he +resolved to do his best. Planting his foot upon a log, he with one hand +drew from his head his old wool cap and thrust it under his arm, while +with the other he twirled a huge brass watchkey, which hung suspended from +his pocket. (He had the day before traded off an old jack knife, two +puppies, and a cracked fiddle, for a brass watch which would only go by +shaking.) + +Tiger, who had accompanied Fanny, eyed Bill’s movements uneasily. He was, +however, unnoticed by the young man, who had got his mouth open, and at +last found courage to say, "I always liked you, Fanny, ’cause you never +laughed at me, nor called me a fool, and now if you’ll have me, you may +carry my watch, and I’ll work for your father two seasons in the hemp +field." This last was wonderful, for Bill was notoriously lazy. + +Involuntarily Fanny laughed, but Bill construed it into approval, and was +about to sit down by her, when Tiger, with an angry growl, sprang forward +and precipitated the wooing swain over the log into the dirt. Fanny called +off the dog, and Bill gathered himself up, carefully brushing the dirt +from his Sunday suit. Fearing he would repeat his offer, Fanny said, "I +appreciate your kindness, Billy, but you see Tiger doesn’t seem to approve +of your proposal, and as I have great confidence in his judgment, I think +I, too, must follow his example, and though I shan’t knock you down, I +shall have to tell you ’No.’" + +She might as well have knocked him down, for he instantly sat down, and +covering his face with his hands, burst into such a fit of crying that +Fanny, half-laughing at and half-pitying him, said, "Poor Billy, I am +sorry for you, and though I cannot marry you, I will like you just as well +as you fancy I always have." + +This failed to quiet Bill, who kept on crying until Tiger made so many +threatening demonstrations of anger, that Bill thought it was wise to +leave before he got another tumble. + +He had hardly disappeared when a loud voice called out, "Bravo, Tiger! You +know how to fix ’em." Looking around, Fanny saw her father, who had been a +silent spectator of the scene, and now came forward laughing heartily at +his would-be son-in-law. "Pretty well done, Sunshine," said he. "Let’s +see, how many offers does this make? Thar’s Joe’s one, the doctor’s two; +Yankee Carmeron’s three; and lubberin’ Bill Jeffrey’s four, and you not +quite eighteen. That’ll do; that’ll do!" Afterward, when Mr. Middleton +wished to entertain his visitors with anything extra, he would rehearse to +them, with some exaggerations, Bill Jeffrey’s proposal to Fanny. + +Glancing backward a few pages, we find we have omitted to repeat what +happened among Dr. Lacey’s blacks during the days when they were anxiously +but vainly watching for the coming of their young master and his bride. +For a week Aunt Dilsey was unusually crusty, and all her attempts at +cookery invariably failed, plainly showing her mind to be in a disturbed +state. + +"I don’t keer," she would say, "if the cakes is all dough and the ’sarves +all froth. They’s good enough for her, any day." Then she would call out, +"Get along you, Jack, pokin’ your fingers into the ’lasses cup; make +yourself scarce in this kitchen, or I’ll crack your head mighty nigh as +hard as the new Miss will." Then she would scold Leffie, who, she said, +"was of no more account than a burnt stick, now she was spectin’ Rondeau. +Pity but the boat he come on wouldn’t blow up and let ’em all into +perdition together." + +Leffie knew her mother didn’t mean more than half what she said, but she +chose to keep silent, hoping each morning that the close of the day would +bring the long absent Rondeau. Thus, between scolding and fretting, +cooking and sweating, Aunt Dilsey passed the time until the day arrived on +which, as she said, "they’d come if they ever did." + +Mrs. Lacey, whose husband had not yet received his son’s letter announcing +the catastrophe, came out to superintend affairs and receive her new +daughter. In the large, handsome dining room, the supper table was neatly +spread, while Aunt Dilsey bustled about with the air of one who felt her +time was short, but was determined to contest every inch of ground ere +yielding it to another. She had condescended to put on her new calico gown +(the one she proposed taking with her in a "handkerchief") and had even +washed the grease and molasses from Jack’s and the baby’s face, telling +the former that "he needn’t mind about making up faces at the lady that +night." + +Claib had gone to the landing, and now Mrs. Lacey and the servants were +gathered upon the upper piazza, waiting his return. Suddenly Dilsey, whose +eyesight seemed wonderfully sharpened, exclaimed, "Thar, that’s Claib. I +could tell my old man if I should meet him at a camp meeting!" + +Mrs. Lacey looked in the direction of the city and saw the carriage which +Dilsey had pointed out. It proved to be Claib; and Leffie, who was rather +near-sighted, strained her eyes to see if Rondeau, too, was on the box. + +"Thar’s nobody in that ar," said Dilsey. "Reckon the boat has run into the +ground, or bust her riggin’; so, Leffie, you’ve put on your pink dress for +nothin’." + +The elder Mr. Lacey, was, however, in the carriage, and alighting, he +advanced toward his wife and gave her the letter he had just received from +his son. Mrs. Lacey read it, while the blacks crowded around Claib asking +him scores of foolish questions, such as, "Was Marster George in the boat? +And why wasn’t he thar? And when would he be thar?" + +When Mrs. Lacey finished reading the letter she said to Leffie, who was +still standing near, "Rondeau is well, and will be home in a few days." + +"When’s the new miss a comin’?" asked Aunt Dilsey. + +"Not at all," was Mrs. Lacey’s reply. + +"Glad on’t," said Dilsey, "for now Jack can spit as fur and as big spits +as he wants to." + +Nothing more was known by the blacks until many days after, when Rondeau +returned home, and related the whole story with many embellishments. He +omitted to tell of the whipping which Ike had given him, but spoke with +unqualified contempt of the old house and everything belonging to it, +except Miss Fanny, who, he said, "Looked just like an angel, only a heap +better." + +"You ought to have seen her," said he, "that night when every thing was +t’other side up; folks a yellin’ like they was crazy, and one man was +stark mad. Miss Julia lay on the floor, the blood pourin’ out of her eyes +and mouth by pails full; Miss Florence, she fainted, and they had to throw +her out the window, glass and all, because there was so many low, +ill-mannered niggers crowded in the hall." + +"I s’pose you’s one of the niggers?" said Aunt Dilsey. + +"Why, yes," returned Rondeau; "but then I was helpin’ and was tryin’ to +push them all back so I could get to marster, who was feelin’ so bad that +they sent for me, because nobody else could comfort him." + +Here Rondeau began to fumble in his pocket, as if in search of something. +Having found it, he continued, "Marster got hold of her hand and grabbed +off her wedding ring so quick that it broke her finger. Then he threw it +from him and I picked it up. Here ’tis," said he, holding up a ring. + +"That’s a likely story," interrupted Aunt Dilsey "If they wasn’t married, +how came the ring on her finger?" + +Rondeau saw he had stretched a trifle too much, but he answered, "Well, +anyhow, he throwed it away, and I’m goin’ to keep it till—till, you know +when, Dilsey." + +"Keep it till you’re gray," said Aunt Dilsey. "Leffie ain’t goin’ to be +married with no such flummery." + +Here Leffie, anxious to change the conversation, asked, "What of Miss +Fanny?" + +"Why, yes," answered Rondeau, "that’s what I’m going to tell. Right in the +middle of the fuss I heard something moving softly down the stairs, and I +saw a thing all as white as snow. Her hair, which was about the color of +Leffie’s neck—real handsome—was hanging in long curls down her back. I +thought it was an angel, and kinder touched her as she passed, to see if +she had wings. But the niggers said, ’It’s Miss Fanny,’ and next I heard +’twas all as still in the room, and marster was huggin’ and kissin’ her +and cryin’ over her. Then, when I tried to get nearer and see more, they +crowded me into such a little spot that I didn’t breathe again for a +week." + +"Why didn’t you get out of the crowd then?" asked Dilsey. + +"How could I?" answered Rondeau. "Lord, Dilsey, I’d like to have seen you +there; but then there wouldn’t have been room for anybody else, for the +hall wouldn’t more than hold you." + +Here the conversation ended, but for a long time Rondeau carried on his +arm the marks of Aunt Dilsey’s finger and thumb. + + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + + FANNY’S ILLNESS LEADS TO HER FATHER’S REPENTANCE + + +From the grassy hillside and bright green plains of Kentucky the frosts of +winter were gone. By the dancing brook and in the shady nooks of the quiet +valleys, the warm spring sun had sought out and brought to life thousands +of sweet wild blossoms, which in turn had faded away, giving place to +other flowers of a brighter and gayer hue. + +Each night from the upper balcony of her father’s handsome dwelling Fanny +watched in vain for the coming of Dr. Lacey, whose promised return had +long been delayed by the dangerous illness of his father. Over the wooded +hills the breath of summer was floating, hot, arid and laden with disease. +Death was abroad in the land, and as each day exaggerated rumors of the +havoc made by cholera in the sultry climate of Louisiana reached Fanny, +fearful misgivings filled her mind lest Dr. Lacey, too, should fall a +victim to the plague. + +For herself she had no fears, though slowly but surely through her veins +the fever flame was creeping, scorching her blood, poisoning her breath +and burning her cheek, until her father, alarmed at her altered and +languid appearance, inquired for the cause of the change. "Nothing but a +slight headache," was the reply. + +Next to the cholera, Mr. Middleton most feared the typhoid fever, several +cases of which had recently occurred in the neighborhood, and fearing lest +the disease might be stealing upon his darling, he proposed calling the +physician. But this Fanny would not suffer, and persisted in saying that +she was well, until at last she lay all day upon the sofa, and Aunt Katy, +when her favorite herb teas failed of effecting their wonted cure, shook +her head, saying, "I knew ’twould be so. I always telled you we couldn’t +keep her long." + +Dr. Gordon was finally called and pronounced her disease to be typhoid in +its worst form. Days went by, and so rapid was the progress of the fever +that Mr. Middleton trembled lest of him it had been decreed: "He shall be +childless." To Fanny the thought of death was familiar. For her it had no +terrors, and as her outward strength decayed, her faith in the Eternal +grew stronger and brighter, yet she could not die without an assurance +that again in the better world she would meet the father she so much +loved. For her mother she had no fears, for during many years she had been +a patient, self-denying Christian. + +At first Mr. Middleton listened in silence to Fanny’s gentle words of +entreaty, but when she spoke to him of her own death, and the love which +alone could sustain him then, he clasped her tightly to his heart, as if +his arm alone could keep her there forever, saying, "Oh, no, you must not +tell me that; you will not die. Even now you are better." And the anxious +father did try to deceive himself into the belief that Fanny was better, +but when each morning’s light revealed some fresh ravage the disease had +made—when the flush on her cheek grew deeper and the light of her eye +wilder and more startling, an agonized fear held the old man’s heart in +thrall. Many and many a weary night found him sleepless, as he wet his +pillow with tears. Not such tears as he wept when Richard Wilmot died, nor +such as fell upon the grave of his first-born, for oh, his grief then was +naught compared with what he now felt for his Sunshine, his idol, his +precious Fanny. "I cannot, cannot let her die," was the cry which hourly +welled up from the depths of that fond father’s aching heart. "Take all, +take everything I own, but leave me Sunshine; she mustn’t, mustn’t die." + +Earnestly did Fanny pray that her father might be enabled better to bear +his affliction. But he turned a deaf ear alike to her and his gentle, +enduring wife, who, bowed with sorrow, yet sought to soothe her +grief-stricken husband. Sadly he would turn away saying, "It’s no use +talking. I can’t be pious if they take Fanny away. I can see why t’other +one died. ’Twas to bring me to my senses, and show me how bad I used her; +but Fanny, my Sunshine, what has Josh done that she should leave him too? +Oh, it’s more than I can bar." + +At Dr. Gordon’s request a council of physicians in Frankfort was called. +As the one who came last was about to enter her room, Mr. Middleton +detained him while he said, "Save her, doctor, save her, and you shall +have all I’m worth." Impatiently he awaited the decision. It came, but +alas, it brought no hope. + +Mr. William Middleton, who had recently come from New Orleans, broke the +news to his unhappy brother. Terrible was the anguish of Uncle Joshua, +when he became convinced that he must lose her. Nothing could induce him +to leave her room; and as if endowed with superhuman strength, he watched +by her constantly, only leaving her once each day to visit the quiet +grave, the bed of his other daughter, where now the long green grass was +waving, and the summer flowers were blooming, flowers which Fanny’s hand +had planted and the father’s tears had watered. + +One night they were alone, the old man and his child. + +For several hours Fanny had turned uneasily upon her pillow, but she at +last fell into a deep sleep. For a time her father sat quietly listening +to the sound of her breathing, then arising, he softly drew aside the +curtains and looked long and anxiously at her as she slept. + +Suddenly lifting his hands he exclaimed, "Oh, God, save her, or help me to +bear it if she dies." It was the first prayer which for long, long years +had passed his lips, but it had a power to bring back the olden feeling, +when a happy boy, he had knelt at his mother’s side, and was not ashamed +to pray. Falling on his knees, he tried to recall the words of prayer his +mother had taught him, but one petition alone came from his heart in that +dark, midnight hour. "Oh, don’t let Fanny die, don’t let her die, for who +will comfort old Joshua when she is gone." + +"The Saviour; He who once wept at the grave of Lazarus will be more to you +than I ever was, or ever can be," said Fanny. + +In her sleep she dreamed that her father prayed. She awoke and found it +true. "Come nearer to me, father," said she. He did so, and then among his +thick gray locks she laid her thin white hand and prayed. + +It was a beautiful sight, and methinks the angels hovered round as that +young disciple, apparently so near the portals of heaven, sought to lead +her weeping father to the same glad world. Her words were soothing, and +o’er his darkened mind a ray of light seemed feebly, faintly shining. +Before the morning dawned he had resolved that if there still was hope for +him he would find it. Many a time during the succeeding days he prayed in +secret, not that Fanny might be spared, but that he might be reconciled to +God. His prayer at length was answered, and Uncle Joshua was a changed +man. He showed it in everything, in the expression of his face and in the +words he uttered. For his Sunshine he still wept, but with a chastened +grief, for now he knew that if she died he would see her in heaven. + +Where now was Dr. Lacey? Knew he not of the threatened danger? At his +father’s bedside, where for many days his place had been, he had received +from Mr. William Middleton a letter announcing Fanny’s illness, which, +however, was not then considered dangerous. On learning the contents of +the letter, the elder Mr. Lacey said, turning to his son, "Go, George, go; +I would not keep you from her a moment." The doctor needed no second +bidding, and the first steamer which left New Orleans bore him upon its +deck, anxious and impatient. + +Fast the days rolled on, and they who watched Fanny alternately hoped and +feared, as she one day seemed better and the next worst. Of those days we +will not speak. We hasten to a night three weeks from the commencement of +her illness, when gathered in her room were anxious friends, who feared +the next day’s sun would see her dead. Florence, Kate and Mrs. Miller were +there, with tearful eyes and saddened faces. Frank Cameron, too, was +there. Business, either real or fancied, had again taken him to Kentucky, +and hearing of Fanny’s illness, he had hastened to her. + +She had requested to be raised up, and now, leaning against her Uncle +William, she lay in a deep slumber. In a corner of the room sat Uncle +Joshua, his head bowed down, his face covered by his hands, while the +large tears fell upon the carpeting, as he sadly whispered, "It’ll be +lonesome at night; it’ll be lonesome in the morning; it’ll be lonesome +everywhar." + +Florence stood by him, and tried by gently smoothing his tangled hair to +express the sympathy she could not speak. Suddenly there was the sound of +fast-coming wheels, and Kate, thinking it must be Dr. Gordon, whom they +were each moment expecting, ran out to meet him. Nearer and nearer came +the carriage, and as Kate was peering through the darkness to see if it +were the expected physician, Dr. Lacey sprang quickly to her side. + +In Frankfort he had heard that Fanny could not live, and now he eagerly +asked, "Tell me, Mrs. Miller, is she yet alive?" + +Kate replied by leading him directly toward the sick chamber. As he +entered the room Uncle Joshua burst into a fresh flood of tears, saying as +he took the doctor’s offered hand, "Poor boy! Poor George. You’re losing a +great deal, but not as much as I, for you can find another Fanny, but for +me thar’s no more Sunshine, when they carry her away." + +Dr. Gordon now came and after feeling her pulse and listening to the sound +of her breathing, he said, "When she wakes from this sleep, I think the +matter will be decided. She will be better or worse." + +And he was right, although the old clock in the hall told the hour of +midnight ere she roused from the deep slumber which had seemed so much +like the long last sleep of death. Her first words were for "water, +water," and as she put up her hand to take the offered glass, Dr. Gordon +whispered to Dr. Lacey: "She is better, but must not see you tonight." + +In a twinkling Mr. Middleton’s large hand was laid on Dr. Lacey’s +shoulder, and hurrying him into the adjoining room, he said, "Stay here +till mornin’, and neither breathe nor stir!" + +Dr. Lacey complied with the request as far as it was possible, though +never seemed a night so long, and never dawned a morning so bright as did +the succeeding one, when through the house the joyous tidings ran that the +crisis was past, and Fanny would live. + +In the course of the morning, Fanny asked Kate, who alone was attending +her, if Dr. Lacey were not there? + +"What makes you think so?" asked Kate. + +"Because," answered Fanny, "I either heard him or dreamed that I did." + +"And if he is here, could you bear to see him now?" + +"Oh, yes, yes," was the eager answer, and the next moment Dr. Lacey was by +her side. + +Intuitively Kate left the room, consequently we have no means of knowing +what occurred during that interview, when Dr. Lacey, as it were, received +back from the arms of death his Fanny, whose recovery from that time was +sure though slow. Mr. Middleton, in the exuberance of his joy at having +his Sunshine restored, seemed hardly sane, but frequently kept muttering +to himself, "Yes, yes, I remember—I’ll do it, only give me a little time"; +at the same time his elbow moved impatiently, as if nudging off some +unseen visitor. What it was that he remembered and would do, was not known +for several days and then he informed his wife that when at first he +feared that Fanny should not live, he had racked his brain to know why +this fresh evil was brought upon him, and had concluded that it was partly +to punish him for his ill-treatment of Julia when living, and partly +because that now she was dead he had neglected to purchase for her any +gravestones. "And I promised," said he, "that if she was spar’d, I’d buy +as nice a gravestun as I would if ’twas Sunshine." Three weeks from that +time there stood by the mound in the little graveyard a plain, handsome +monument, on which was simply inscribed, "Julia, aged twenty." + +One after another those who had been with Fanny during her illness +departed to their homes. Frank Cameron lingered several weeks in +Frankfort. Florence, too, was there with some relatives. Now, reader, if +you value our friendship, you will not accuse him of being fickle. He had +loved Fanny long and faithfully, but he knew the time was coming when he +would see her the wife of another. What wonder was it, then, if he +suffered his eye occasionally to rest admiringly upon Florence Woodburn’s +happy face, or that he frequently found himself trying to trace some +resemblance between the dark hazel of Florence’s eyes and the deep blue of +Fanny’s? + +With woman’s quick perception, Florence divined Frank’s thoughts, and +although she professed herself to be "terribly afraid of his Presbyterian +smile and deaconish ways," she took good care not to discourage him. But +she teased him unmercifully, and played him many sorry tricks. He bore it +all good-humoredly, and when he started for New York he had with him a +tiny casing, from which peeped the merry face of Florence, looking as if +just meditating some fresh mischief. + +And what of Florence? Why, safely stowed away at the bottom of her bureau +drawer, under a promiscuous pile of gloves, ribbons, laces and +handkerchiefs, was a big daguerreotype; but as Florence guarded that +drawer most carefully, always keeping the key in her pocket, we are unable +to say anything certain upon the subject. Up to this day we don’t know +exactly whose face it was that led Florence to the drawer so many times a +day, but we are safe in saying that it looked frank enough to be Frank +himself! + +Here for a time we leave her, and return to Mr. Middleton’s where Fanny +was improving each day. Dr. Lacey watched her recovery anxiously, fearing +continually lest some new calamity should happen to take his treasure from +him. Owing to the protracted illness of his father, it became necessary +that he should go back to New Orleans; but as soon as possible he would +return, and then—Fanny could have told you what then, and so, too, could +we, but we prefer keeping you in suspense. + + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + + THE WEDDING + + +The autumn months were gone; December had come and "Christmas was coming." +The negroes far and near had counted the days which must pass before their +expected holidays. In Uncle Joshua’s kitchen there was much talking and +laughing, fixing and fussing, and some crying. Had you asked the cause of +the crying, you would have been told that Miss Fanny was to be married +Christmas Eve, and the week following she would leave them and start for +New Orleans. + +Preparations commenced on a large scale; for Uncle Joshua, a little proud, +it may be, of his handsome house, had determined on a large party. The old +gentleman even went so far as to order for himself a new suit of +broadcloth, saying by way of apology that, "though the jeens coat and +bagging pants did well enough for Josh, they wouldn’t answer nohow for the +father of Mrs. Dr. George Lacey." + +A week before the wedding Florence, who loved dearly to be in a bustle, +came laden with bandboxes and carpet bags. Hourly through the house rang +her merry laugh, as she flitted hither and thither, actually doing nothing +in her zeal to do everything. She had consented to be bridesmaid on +condition that she should choose her own groomsman, who she said should be +"Uncle Billy," as she always called Mr. William Middleton, "unless +Providence sent her some one she liked better." Whether it were owing to +Providence or to an invitation which went from Florence to New York we are +unable to say, but two days before the 24th Uncle Joshua surprised +Florence and Fanny by opening the door of the room where they were +sitting, and saying, "Ho, my boy, here they be—come on." + +The girls started up, and in a moment Frank stood between them, with an +arm thrown around each. "Why, Mr. Cameron," said Florence, "what did you +come for, and who knew you were coming?" + +"I came to see you, and you knew I was coming," answered Frank. + +"Well, then," returned Florence, "if you came to see me, do look at me, +and not keep your eyes fixed so continually on Fanny. In a few days you +will be breaking the commandment which says: ’Thou shalt not covet thy +neighbor’s wife.’" + +"Possibly I might had I never seen you," answered Frank. + +At a late hour that night Florence moved with soft footsteps about her +sleeping room, fearing lest she should awaken Fanny. Her precautions were +useless, for Fanny was awake; looking at Florence, she said, "Oh, Flory, +you naughty girl, what makes you blush so dreadfully?" + +The next half hour was spent by Florence in telling Fanny what Frank had +just asked her in four or five words, and which she had answered in one, +viz., if she would be his wife. "But then," said Florence, pretending to +pout, "he was so conscientious that he had to tell me what I already knew, +which was that he once loved you better than he should ever love another." + +Frank had asked Florence to share his lot through life, and she, like any +other good, prompt Kentucky girl, had readily answered "yes," although she +was frightened next moment for fear she had been too easily won by the +"cold Yankee," as she called him, and she proposed taking back what she +said just for the sake of being teased. Mr. Woodburn came next day to +bring Florence some article of dress, which she would need. He was not +surprised when Frank, taking him aside, modestly asked for his daughter; +he said, "Yes," almost as readily as Florence had done, and then it was +hard telling which seemed most happy—Frank or Dr. Lacey. + +The 24th of December came at last. We at the North who, during six months +of the year, blow our benumbed fingers, can scarcely imagine how bright +and beautiful are some of the clear warm days of a Kentucky winter. On +this occasion, as if Nature had resolved to do her best, the day was soft +and sunny as in early autumn, presenting a striking contrast to the wild, +angry storm which rent the sky when once more ’neath Uncle Joshua’s roof a +bridal party was assembled. + +As night approached, carriage after carriage rolled up the long, graveled +pathway, until Ike declared, "Thar was no more room in the barns, and if +any more came he’d have to drive them into the kitchen." + +Up and down the broad stairway tripped light and joyous footsteps until +the rooms above, which Luce had put in so exact order, presented a scene +of complete confusion. Bandboxes were turned bottom-side up and their +contents indiscriminately scattered until it was impossible to tell what +was yours and what wasn’t. + +At length through the parlor door came Dr. Lacey and Fanny, followed by +Frank Cameron and Florence. Throughout the rooms was a solemn hush as +Fanny was made Dr. Lacey’s wife. Firmly Dr. Lacey held her hand until the +last word was spoken; then when he felt sure that she was his, he stooped +down and whispered in her ear, "Thank God that you are mine at last." + +Three days after the wedding Mr. Middleton’s carriage again stood before +the door. When all was ready, Uncle Joshua knelt down, and winding his arm +around Fanny, prayed in simple, touching language that God would protect +his Sunshine, and at last bring them all to the same home. "All of us; and +don’t let one be missing thar." There was a peculiar pathos in the tone of +his voice as he said the last words, and all knew to whom he referred. + +Long and wearisome at Mr. Middleton’s were the days succeeding Fanny’s +departure, while in Dr. Lacey’s home all was joy and gladness. + +It was about dark when Dr. Lacey arrived. Happy as a bird, Fanny sprang up +the steps. Everything about her seemed homelike and cheerful. Kind, dusky +faces peered at her from every corner, while Aunt Dilsey, with a +complacent smile, stood ready to receive her. Fanny was prepared to like +everything, but there was something peculiarly pleasing to her in Aunt +Dilsey’s broad, good-humored face. Going up to her she took both her +hands, and said, "I know we shall be good friends. I shall like you and +you shall love me a little, won’t you, just as the old aunties did I left +in Kentucky?" + +Aunt Dilsey hadn’t expected all this, and the poor creature burst into +tears, saying, "Lord bless the sweet miss! I’d die for her this minute, I +would." + +Rondeau, Leffie and the other blacks belonging to the establishment, now +came forward, and in the crowd little Jack’s bow was entirely +unappreciated; but Fanny next day made amends by giving him nearly a pound +of candy, which had the effect of making him sick a week, but he got well +in time to be present at Leffie’s wedding, which took place just a week +after Dr. Lacey’s return. + +Leffie, who chanced to be just the size of her young mistress, was thrown +into ecstasies by the gift of a thin pink and white silk dress, which +Fanny presented to her for a bridal gown. Aunt Dilsey, in order to show +her thanks, went down on her knees, a thing she never attempted again, as +it took her such an unheard-of length of time to recover a standing +posture. Dr. Lacey had made Leffie the present of a pair of gold earrings, +so that she was really a pretty bride, and Rondeau was the happiest negro +in all New Orleans. + +As weddings seem to be the order of this chapter, we may here, as well as +anywhere, dispose of Mrs. Carrington, whom, you will remember, Raymond +said he would one day marry. When he left Frankfort, he had no definite +idea as to what he should do, but after reaching Cincinnati, it occured to +him that his mother had a wealthy old bachelor uncle living in St. Louis, +and thither he determined to go. This uncle, Mr. Dunlap, received the +young man cordially, for he was the first relative he had met with in +years. There was something, too, in the manner with which Raymond +introduced himself that won for him a place in the crusty old man’s good +opinion. + +"I am Fred Raymond," said he, "your niece Helen’s son, and as poor a jack +as there is this side of California. They say you are a stingy old +customer, but I don’t care for that. You have got to give me some +business, and a home, too." + +Raymond’s method of approaching the old gentleman was successful, and he +at once gave him a good position, which later developed into a +partnership. + +Feeling himself established and finding Mrs. Carrington in St. Louis, +Raymond pressed his suit, and they were eventually married. + +The couple were disappointed in their expectations of a fortune, for +within two years after the marriage Mr. Dunlap suddenly died. He had +intended to make his will and make Raymond his heir, but like many other +men he put it off until it was too late, and his property, which was found +to be less than supposed, went back to his brothers and sisters, and from +them to their children and grandchildren, so that Raymond got but a small +share. + +He, however, retained his position as a merchant, and struggled hard to +keep his wife in the same circumstances to which she had been accustomed. +She appreciated his kindness, and when at the end of three years she was +the mother of three children, she concluded it was time to lay aside all +desire for fashionable amusements, and she became a tolerably affectionate +wife, and a wonderfully indulgent mother. + + + + + + CHAPTER XXV + + + THE WANDERER + + +In Uncle Joshua’s home there were sad, troubled faces and anxious hearts, +as the husband and daughter watched by the wife and mother, whose life on +earth was well-nigh ended. From her mother’s family Mrs. Middleton had +inherited the seeds of consumption, which had fastened upon her. + +Day by day, they watched her, and when at last she left them it seemed so +much like falling away to sleep that Mr. Middleton, who sat by her, knew +not the exact moment which made him a lonely widower. The next afternoon +sympathizing friends and neighbors assembled to pay the last tribute of +respect to Mrs. Middleton, and many an eye overflowed, and more than one +heart ached as the gray-haired old man bent sadly above the coffin, which +contained the wife of his early love. But he mourned not as one without +hope, for her end had been peace, and when upon her face his tears fell he +felt assured that again beyond the dark river of death he should meet her. + +The night succeeding the burial Mr. Middleton’s family, overcome with +fatigue and grief, retired early to their rooms, but Fanny could not +sleep, and between ten and eleven she arose and throwing on her dressing +gown nervously walked up and down her sleeping room. It was a little over +a year after her marriage. Through the closed shutters the rays of a +bright September moon were stealing, and attracted by the beauty of the +night, Fanny opened the blinds and the room was filled with a flood of +soft, pale light. From the window where she stood she could distinguish +the little graveyard, with its cypress and willow trees, and its white +monument gleaming through the silvery moonlight, and near that monument +was a dark spot, the grave of her beloved mother. "If all nights were as +lovely as this," thought she, "it would not seem half so dreary to sleep +in the cold dark grave," and then Fanny fell into a fit of musing of the +night that would surely come when she would first be left alone in the +shadowy graveyard. + +In the midst of her reverie her attention was attracted by a slight female +figure, which from some quarters had approached unperceived, and now upon +the newly-made grave was bowing itself in apparent weeping. The size and +form of the girl were so much like Luce that Fanny concluded it must be +she, at the same time wondering how, with her superstitious ideas, she +ventured alone near a grave in the night time. In a moment, however, she +saw that Tiger, the watch dog, was with her, and at the same instant the +sound of a suppressed sob fell on her ear. "Poor Luce," said she, "I did +not think she loved my mother so well. I will go to her and mingle my +tears with hers." + +In a short time Fanny was in the open air, and on her way to the +graveyard. As she approached her mother’s grave, she said gently, "Luce, +Luce, why are you out so late?" + +The person addressed partially raised her head and answered hurriedly, +"Oh, Fanny, Fanny, do not be frightened and leave me; I am not dead, and +never was buried in that grave, as you suppose, but I am here tonight a +living, repentant woman," and throwing back her bonnet, the thin, white +face of Julia Middleton was in the bright moonlight perfectly +distinguishable to Fanny, who at first recoiled in fear and leaned for +support against the marble pillar near which she was standing. + +She, however, soon recovered her self-command and glancing at the object +on the grave, saw that she was caressing Tiger, who seemed trying various +ways to evince his joy at finding one whom he had long missed, for he had +ever been Julia’s favorite. Their fiery natures accorded well! Again Julia +spoke, "Fanny, dear Fanny. In an adjoining state I heard of mother’s +illness and hastened to see her, but I am too late. Now, do not think me a +phantom, for see, Tiger recognizes me and welcomes me home, and will not +you?" + +An instant Fanny wavered, then with a half-fearful, half-joyful cry she +went forward, and by the grave of the mother that day lowered to the dust, +the sisters met in a long, fervent embrace. + +Into the best chamber of their father’s house Fanny led the weeping, +repentant girl, and gently removing her bonnet and shawl, bade her lie +down on the nicely-cushioned lounge, while she went for her father. As she +was leaving the room Julia arose and laid her small, bony hand on Fanny’s +shoulder. It had rested there before, for in the graveyard, with their +buried mother between them, Julia’s arms had encircled her sister’s neck; +but the first excitement was over, and now involuntarily Fanny shrank from +that touch, for in spite of all her courage, she could not help +associating Julia with the grass-grown grave, and the large white +monument. + +"What is it, Julia?" she said calmly. "Do you wish to see father?" + +"Oh, yes, yes," answered Julia, "but not him, the other one—at least not +tonight. You understand." + +"I do," said Fanny, and she glided down the stairs toward her father’s +room. He was awake, for ere her hand touched the doorknob, his sonorous +"Who’s thar?" fell on her ear. This somewhat disconcerted her, for she had +intended stopping near his door, to devise the best means by which to +break the intelligence. But "Who’s thar?" was again repeated, and entering +the room she said softly, "It’s I, father." + +"Why, sure enough," said he, and then as the light from her lamp fell on +her features, he exclaimed, "why, how white you be! What’s the matter? +Who’s upstairs? Is George sick?" + +"No, George is not sick," said Fanny, "but—," and then as well as she +could she told him all she knew. + +Uncle Joshua’s nervous system was unstrung, and his physical health +impaired by long nights of watching with his wife, and now when this fresh +shock came upon him, he fell back half-fainting upon his pillow. Then +rousing himself, he said, "Alive and come back! I don’t desarve this. But +where is she? I will go to her." + +Fanny directed him where to find her, and then returned to Julia, whither +her father soon followed. Uncle Joshua was not prepared for the change in +his daughter. He did not even think of her as he saw her last, wasted by +sickness, but in imagination he beheld her as she was in her days of +health and dazzling beauty, when with diabolical cunning she had brought +Dr. Lacey to her feet. Now, however, her face was thin, white and haggard, +for such a life as she had lived had never conduced to the beauty and +health of any one. Her eyes, sunken in their sockets, and swollen with +recent weeping, looked frightfully large and wild, and to complete the +metamorphosis, her beautiful, glossy hair was now cut short on her neck, +and pushed far back from a brow, across which lay more than one premature +wrinkle. + +The sight of her for a time unsettled the old man’s reason. Taking her in +his arms he alternately cried and laughed over her, saying, "I knew you’d +come. I expected it. I’ve waited for you." + +Julia’s altered appearance troubled him, and drawing her head down upon +his bosom, and laying his hand on her thin, white face, he said, "Poor +child, what has changed you so, and whar have you been; and who did I buy +that big stun for if ’twasn’t for you?" + +"Not tonight, dear father," answered Julia. "Let me rest tonight and +tomorrow I will tell you all." + + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI + + + JULIA AT HOME AGAIN + + +Overcome with fatigue and excitement, Julia immediately after her father +left her on the preceding night, had fallen into a deep sleep, which was +unbroken till long after dawn. Then she was aroused by her father calling +up the negroes. Hastily starting up, she looked around her and, for a +moment, strove to remember what had happened. Soon she remembered all, and +burying her face in the pillows, she sobbed out: "Father, I thank Thee; +the prodigal is at last at home." + +Hastily arising she proceeded with her toilet, which was nearly completed +when Fanny tapped gently at the door, and immediately entered the room, +saying, "Good morning, dear Julia. I am so glad you really are here and +that it is not a dream. But come, breakfast is waiting and so is father, +and so is—so is—George." + +"Oh, I can’t see him, I can’t," said Julia, and Fanny answered, "Oh, never +mind him. I have told him all about it, and he is ready to receive you as +a sister." + +So saying, she led the reluctant girl down the long staircase, through the +wide hall to the door of the breakfast room, where Mr. Middleton stood +waiting for them. His tones and manner were very affectionate as he kissed +the wanderer, and said, "I am so glad you’re here." + +Julia could have wept, but she would not. There was yet another to meet, +and choking down her tears she nerved herself for the trial. Of what +occurred next she knew nothing until her cold white hand was clasped by +another so warm, so life-giving in its touch that she raised her eyes and +met the calm, quiet gaze of Dr. Lacey. Neither of them spoke until Julia, +averting her eyes, said, "Am I forgiven?" + +"You are," was the answer, and then Uncle Joshua exclaimed, "thar, that’ll +do. Now come to your breakfast, children, for I’m mighty hungry, and +shan’t wait another minute." + +After breakfast Julia was greatly surprised at seeing her father take from +the bookcase the old family Bible, on whose dark dusty covers she +remembered having many a time written her name. All was now explained. Her +father’s gentleness of look and manner were accounted for; and as for the +first time in her life she knelt by his side and heard him as he prayed, +her heart swelled with emotion, and she longed to tell him, though she +dared not hope she was a Christian, she was still trying to lead a +different, a better life. + +That afternoon in her chamber were seated Mr. Middleton and Fanny, while +Julia recounted the story of her wanderings. "The idea of leaving my +home," said she, "was not a sudden impulse, else had I returned sooner, +but it was the result of long, bitter reflection. In the first days of my +humiliation I wished that I might die, for though the thought of death and +the dread hereafter made me tremble, it was preferable to the scorn and +contempt I should necessarily meet if I survived. Then came a reaction, +and when our angel mother glided so noiselessly around my sick room; when +you, darling Fanny, nursed me with so much care, and even father’s voice +grew low and kind as he addressed me, my better nature, if I had any, was +touched, and I thought I would like to live for the sake of retrieving the +past. But the evil spirit which has haunted me from infancy whispered that +as soon as I was well all would be changed. You, Fanny, would hate me, and +father would treat me as he always had, only worse." + +"Poor dear child! I didn’t or’to do so, I know," said Uncle Joshua, and +Julia continued: "Then I thought how the world would loathe, and despise +and point at me, until I was almost maddened, and when Dr. Gordon said I +would live, the tempter whispered suicide; but I dared not do that. About +that time I heard rumors of a marriage which would take place as soon as I +was well; and Fanny will you forgive me? I tried to be sick as long as +possible for the sake of delaying your happiness." + +A pressure of the hand was Fanny’s only answer, and Julia proceeded: "I +could not see you married to him. I could not meet the world and its +censure, so I determined to go away. I had thirty dollars in my purse, of +which no one knew, and taking that I started, I knew not where. On +reaching the schoolhouse something impelled me to enter it, and I found +there a young girl about my own size. Under other circumstances I might +have been frightened, but now utterly fearless, I addressed her, and found +from her answers that she was crazy. A sudden idea entered my brain. I +would change clothes with her, and thus avoid discovery. She willingly +acceded to my proposition, and in my new attire I again started toward +Lexington, which I reached about four in the morning. I had no definite +idea as to where I wanted to go, but the sight of the Cincinnati stage +drawn up before the Phoenix determined me. I had purposely kept my own +bonnet and veil, as the maniac girl wore neither. Drawing the latter over +my face, I kept it there while securing my place in the coach, and until +we were many miles from the city. Passengers entered and left, and some +looked inquisitively at me and my slightly fantastic dress. + +"We reached Cincinnati about ten in the morning, and with a long glad +breath I stepped from the coach, and felt that Kentucky and my notorious +character were behind. I stopped at the —— Hotel, and the next two days +were spent in procuring myself a decent outfit. Each night I went to a +different house, for the sake of avoiding suspicion, and as my bills were +promptly paid, no questions were ever asked. At the D—— House I saw in a +paper an advertisement for a teacher in a school in one of the interior +towns. I had formed some such plan for the future, and instantly +determined personally to apply for the situation. I did so, but +credentials were required, and I had none to give. Somewhat weary of my +adventure I returned to Cincinnati, and in passing through one of the +streets, my eye caught the sign ’Fashionable Dressmaking and Millinery.’ I +knew I had a taste for that, and I concluded to offer myself as an +apprentice." + +Then she told how she had toiled on day after day with dim eye and aching +head for over a year in the unwholesome atmosphere of a crowded workshop +conducted by a slave-driving, inconsiderate woman named Miss Dillon, while +thoughts of home and remorse for the past preyed on her heart. + +"But why did you not come back?" asked Fanny. "We would have received you +most gladly." + +"I felt that I could not do that," said Julia. "I knew that you thought me +dead, and I fancied that father, at least, would feel relieved." + +"Oh, child," groaned Uncle Joshua, "don’t say so. I was mighty mean, I +know, but I never got to that." + +After a moment Julia told them that she had had to deliver a party dress +to Florence Woodburn at Mr. Graham’s house one evening and, while waiting +in the hall, had heard Florence read a letter from Nellie Stanton aloud to +Alice Graham. In the letter, Nellie said that Mrs. Middleton was not +expected to live and that Dr. Lacey and Fanny from New Orleans were with +her. + +This news caused her to resign her position at Miss Dillon’s and hurry +home. "I reached Lexington," said she, "about nine o’clock in the evening, +and as I thought my baggage might incommode me, I purposely left it there, +but hired a boy to bring me home. When we reached the gate at the entrance +of the woods I told him he could return, as I preferred going the +remainder of the way alone. He seemed surprised, but complied with my +request. I had never heard of the new house, and as I drew near I was +puzzled, and fancied I was wrong; but Tiger bounded forward, at first +angrily, then joyfully, and I knew I was right. All about the house was so +dark, so still, that a dreadful foreboding filled my heart—a fear that +mother might be dead. I remembered the little graveyard and instantly bent +my steps thither. I saw the costly marble and the carefully kept grave, +and a thrill of joy ran through my veins, for they told me I was kindly +remembered in the home I had so darkened. But another object riveted my +attention. It was a fresh mound, and I knew full well who rested there. +Never have I shed such tears of anguish as fell upon the sod which covers +my sainted mother. In the intensity of my grief I was not conscious of +Fanny’s approach until she stood near me. The rest you know; and now, +father, will you receive to your home and affection one who has so widely +strayed?" + +"Willin’ly, most willin’ly," said Uncle Joshua, as he folded her to his +bosom, "and if I had done as I or’to, a heap of this wouldn’t have +happened. Oh, I didn’t or’to do so, I didn’t; and I ain’t goin’ to any +more. You shall live with me when Sunshine’s gone; and we would be so +happy, if your poor mother could only see us and know it all." + +From that time nothing could exceed Uncle Joshua’s kindness to his +daughter. He seemed indeed trying to make up for the past, and frequently +he would whisper to himself, "No, I didn’t or’to do so. I see more and +more that I didn’t." Still his fondness for Fanny was undiminished, and +occasionally, after looking earnestly at both his children, he would +exclaim, "Hang me, if I don’t b’lieve Sunshine is a heap the handsomest"; +but if these words caused Julia any emotion, ’twas never betrayed. + +From Julia’s story there could be no doubt that the maniac girl was laid +in the grave which Uncle Joshua had thought belonged to his daughter. No +tidings of her had been heard, although one gentleman thought that he once +had met with a girl answering to her description in the stage coach +between Lexington and Cincinnati. All search in that quarter was +unavailing, and over her fate a dark mystery lay, until Julia suddenly +appeared and threw light on the matter. The afflicted father (for she had +no mother) was sent for, and when told where his child was laid, asked +permission to have her disinterred and taken to his family burial place. +His request was granted, the grave was opened, and then refilled and +leveled with the earth. The monument Julia took care to have carefully +preserved as a memento of the olden time. + +As will be supposed, Julia’s return furnished the neighborhood and +surrounding country with a topic of conversation for many weeks. At first +nearly all treated her with cool neglect, but as she kept entirely at +home, curiosity to see one who had, as it were, come back from the dead +triumphed over all other things; and at last all who came to see Fanny +asked also for her sister. + +Among the few who at once hastened to give the penitent girl the hand of +friendship was Kate Miller; and as she marked her gentle manner and the +subdued glance of her still somewhat haughty eyes, she wound her arm about +her neck and whispered, "I shall in time learn to love you dearly for the +sake of more than one." + +Julia comprehended her, or thought she did, and answered, "Oh, Mrs. +Miller, that one dreadful crime has troubled me more than all the rest. I +killed him, your noble brother, and from the moment I deliberately +determined to do so I became leagued with the tempter, who lured me madly +on. But I outdid myself, and was entangled in the snare my own hands had +laid." + +"It is ever so," answered Kate. "Our most secret sins will in the end find +us out." + +The reader is perhaps anxious to know whether back across the Atlantic, +Ashton brought his Spanish bride. Yes, he did. Mr. William Middleton +accompanied him to the house of Sir Arthur Effingham, whom they found to +be dying; his property was gone, and he feared that he must leave the +youthful Inez to the cold charities of the world and a miserly brother. +When Mr. Middleton made himself known, the dying man pointed to Inez, and +said, "You once loved the mother; care for the daughter when I am gone, +will you?" + +"I will," answered Mr. Middleton, "on condition that you consent to having +a young friend of mine share the care with me." At the same time he +presented Ashton. + +Sir Arthur recognized him immediately and answered, "Willingly, most +willingly. I was a fool to spurn you once as I did." + +In a few hours Sir Arthur was dead, and Inez was an orphan. But her grief +was soothed by the presence of Ashton, who, a few days before sailing for +America, made her his wife. During the voyage Mr. Middleton informed +Ashton that as soon as he reached home he intended making his will, by +which he should bequeath his property to Inez. Said he, "I have spent so +many years of my life in India that I find the climate of New Orleans more +congenial to my feelings than a colder one would be, consequently I shall +purchase a house in that city, and as I look upon you and Inez as my +children, I shall insist upon your living with me if you have no +objection." + +During the winter Fanny wrote frequently to her father urging him to visit +her; but this he declined doing, and early the following May, he stood one +evening impatiently awaiting the arrival of Ike, who had gone to Frankfort +with the expectation of meeting Fanny and her husband. Everything had been +put in readiness. The parlors and best chamber were opened and aired. The +carriage and carriage horses had been brushed up, a new saddle had been +bought for Fanny’s pony, and a new dress for each of the black women, and +everything and everybody seemed expecting a joyful time. + +As the carriage approached the house Uncle Joshua looked wistfully toward +it, trying to catch a glimpse of "Sunshine," whom he had not seen for +nearly a year and a half. But only the face of a little negro girl was +seen looking from the window, and Uncle Joshua exclaimed, "Now, what’s +possessed them to fetch that yaller gal! I’ve got niggers enough to wait +on ’em." + +But the "yaller gal" knew very well why she was there, and so ere long did +Uncle Joshua. The steps were let down, and there, blithesome and gay as +ever, Fanny sprang from the carriage and ran into the arms of her father, +who kissed her again and again, holding her off to look at her and then +again drawing her to him and saying, "You’re handsomer than ever." + +During this process the yellow girl, Rose, had brought from the carriage a +mysterious looking bundle of flannel and white cambric, which now in Dr. +Lacey’s arms was crowing with delight as its little nurse bobbed up and +down, making at it all sorts of grimaces. + +"What the ——, no, I forgot, I didn’t mean so. But what—is—that!" said +Uncle Joshua, releasing Fanny and advancing toward Dr. Lacey, who proudly +placed in his arms a beautiful nine-month-old baby, saying, "We have +brought you a second Sunshine." + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE ***
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