e kitchen floor, and she slept for a few hours. When
she awoke, her first thought was of Jenny; and all the events of the
previous day and evening passed in review before her. Her soul had been
sanctified by communion with the sainted spirit of her departed friend.
On the day before, her current of being seemed suddenly to have stopped
in its course, and then to have taken a new direction. Her thoughts,
her hopes, her aspirations had all been changed. She had resolved to be
good--so solemnly and truly resolved to be good, that she felt like a
new creature.

She prayed to the good Father, who had been revealed to her by the
dying girl; and from her prayers came a strength which was a new life
to her soul. From her strong desire to be good--to be what Jenny had
been--had grown up a new faith.

In the forenoon came the wife and daughter of the good physician again
upon the mission of mercy. They had requested the attendance of an
undertaker, and assumed the whole charge of the funeral of Jenny, which
was to take place on the third day after her death.

Fanny had hardly thought of herself since the angel of death entered
the house, though she had been weighed down by a burden of guilt that
did not embody itself in particular thoughts. In her sincere penitence,
and in her firm and sacred resolve to be good and true, she had found
only a partial peace of mind. She had not a doubt in regard to her
future course: she must return to Woodville, and submit to any
punishment which her kind friends might impose upon her. She was
willing to suffer for what she had done; she was even willing to be
sent to her uncle's in Minnesota; and this feeling of submission was
the best evidence to herself of the reality of her repentance.

She was not willing to return to Woodville till she had seen the mortal
part of Jenny laid away in its final resting-place. But Mr. Grant, who
was at Hudson with his daughters, might already have been informed of
her wicked conduct; and Mr. Long was probably still engaged in the
search for her. There was a duty she owed to her friends which her
awakened conscience would not permit her to neglect. The family would
be very anxious about her, for wayward and wilful as she had been, she
felt that they still loved her. Procuring pen and paper, she wrote a
letter to Mrs. Green, informing her that she should return home on
Friday; that she would submit to any punishment, and endeavor to be
good in the future. She