s she could do to keep from going to her room during the
evening. Sundry times she tried to discover whether Mrs. Markland
had seen the letter or, not, but the efforts were unsuccessful; the
mother choosing for the present not to enter into further
conversation with her on the subject.

All eye and all ear was Aunt Grace on the next morning, when Fanny
made her appearance; but only through the eye was any information
gathered, and that of a most unsatisfactory character. The little
said by Fanny or her mother, was as a remote as possible from the
subject that occupied most nearly their thoughts. Aunt Grace tried
in various ways to lead them in the direction she would have them
go; but it was all in vain that she asked questions touching the
return of her brother, and wondered what could have taken him off to
New York in such a hurry; no one made any satisfactory reply. At
last, feeling a little chafed, and, at the same time, a little
malicious, she said--

"That Mr. Lyon's at the bottom of this business."

The sentence told, as she had expected and intended. Fanny glanced
quickly toward her, and a crimson spot burned on her cheek. But no
word passed her lips. "So much gained," thought Aunt Grace; and then
she said aloud--

"I've no faith in the man myself."

This, she believed, would throw Fanny off of her guard; but she was
mistaken. The colour deepened on the young girl's cheeks, but she
made no response.

"If he doesn't get Edward into trouble before he's done with him,
I'm no prophet," added Aunt Grace, with a dash of vinegar in her
tones.

"Why do you say that?" asked Mrs. Markland, who felt constrained to
speak.

"I've no opinion of the man, and never had from the beginning, as
you are very well aware," answered the sister-in-law.

"Our estimate of character should have a sounder basis than mere
opinion, or, to speak more accurately--prejudice," said Mrs.
Markland.

"I don't know what eyes were given us for, if we are not to see with
them," returned Aunt Grace, dogmatically. "But no wonder so many
stumble and fall, when so few use their eyes. There isn't that man
living who does not bear, stamped upon his face, the symbols of his
character. And plainly enough are these to be seen in the
countenance of Mr. Lyon."

"And how do you read them, Aunt Grace?" inquired Fanny, with a
manner so passionless, that even the sharp-sighted aunt was deceived
in regard to the amount of feeling that lay hidden in h