you will not think so."

"Then I ought not to answer this letter?" said Fanny, after musing
for some time.

"Let your father, in one of his letters, acknowledge the receipt for
you. If Mr. Lyon be a true man, he will respect you the more."

Not entirely satisfied, though she gave no intimation of this, Fanny
returned to the seclusion of her own room, to muse on so unexpected
a circumstance; and as she mused, the beating of her heart grew
quicker. Again she read the letter from Mr. Lyon, and again and
again conned it over, until every sentence was imprinted on her
memory. She did not reject the view taken by her mother; nay, she
even tried to make it her own; but, for all this, not the shadow of
a doubt touching Mr. Lyon could find a place in her thoughts. Before
her mental vision he stood, the very type of noble manhood.

CHAPTER VIII.

WHAT an error had been committed! How painfully was this realized by
Mrs. Markland. How often had she looked forward, with a vague
feeling of anxiety, to the time, yet far distant--she had
believed--when the heart-strings of her daughter would tremble in
musical response to the low-breathed voice of love--and now that
time had come. Alas! that it had come so soon--ere thought and
perception had gained matured strength and wise discrimination. The
voice of the charmer was in her ears, and she was leaning to
hearken.

Fanny did not join the family at the tea-table on that evening; and
on the next morning, when she met her mother, her face was paler
than usual, and her eyes drooped under the earnest gaze that sought
to read her very thoughts. It was plain, from her appearance, that
her sleep had been neither sound nor refreshing.

Mrs. Markland deemed it wisest to make no allusion to what had
occurred on the previous evening. Her views in regard to answering
Mr. Lyon's letter had been clearly expressed, and she had no fear
that her daughter would act in opposition to them. Most anxiously
did she await her husband's return. Thus far in life they had, in
all important events, "seen eye to eye," and she had ever reposed
full confidence in his judgment. If that confidence wavered in any
degree now, it had been disturbed through his seeming entire trust
in Mr. Lyon.

Aunt Grace had her share of curiosity, and she was dying, as they
say, to know what was in Fanny's letter. The non-appearance of her
niece at the tea-table had disappointed her considerably; and it was
as much a