her face a little surprised him. Her eyes fell
under his gaze, and the crimson blood rose to her forehead.

"What has worried you?" tenderly inquired Mrs. Markland.

"I met with a strange rumour in the city."

"About what?"

"About Mr. Lyon."

Mrs. Markland's whole manner changed, her usual quiet aspect giving
place to strongly manifested interest. Her eyes, as well as those of
her husband, turned to-ward Fanny, who, by partial aversion, sought
to hide from close observation her suffused countenance.

"What of Mr. Lyon?" asked Mrs. Markland.

"At least two persons have affirmed, quite positively, that they saw
Mr. Lyon, as well in the city as in this neighbourhood, on the day
before yesterday," said Mr. Markland.

The colour suddenly receded from the face of his wife, who looked
half-frightened at so unexpected an announcement. Fanny turned
herself further away from observation.

"Saw Mr. Lyon! Can it be possible he did not go South at the time he
said that he would leave?" Mrs. Markland's voice was troubled.

"He went, of course," was the cheerful, confident answer of Mr.
Markland.

"You are sure of it?"

"Oh, yes!"

"How do you explain the mystery, if it may so be called?"

"After hours of doubt, perplexity, and uneasiness, I met the man
himself."

"Not Mr. Lyon?"

Fanny started at her father's announcement, and partly turned toward
him a face that was now of a pallid hue.

"No; not Mr. Lyon," said Mr. Markland, in answer to his wife's
ejaculation, "but a person so nearly resembling him, that, for a few
moments, even I was deceived."

"How singular! Who was the man?"

"Our new neighbour, Mr. Willet."

"Why, Edward! That is remarkable."

"Yes, it is really so. I had just parted from Mr. Allison, who was
certain of having seen Mr. Lyon in this neighbourhood, on the day
before yesterday, when I met Mr. Willet. I can assure you that I was
startled when my eyes first rested upon him. For a few moments,
pulsation was suspended. A nearer approach corrected my error; and a
brief conversation with our new neighbour, gave me a strong
prepossession in his favour."

Before this sentence was completed, Fanny had arisen and gone
quietly from the room. For a few moments after her departure, the
father's and mother's eyes rested upon the door through which her
graceful form had vanished. Then they looked at each other, sighed,
and were silent.

The moment Fanny was beyond the observation of her paren