to the library to procure the money.
Instead of going up stairs to prepare herself for school, as the
housekeeper had told her to do, Fanny went out upon the piazza again,
and looking through the window, saw Mrs. Green open a closet in the
library, and, from a drawer there, take out the money she had asked
for. The housekeeper locked the drawer and the closet door, placing the
key of the latter in a vase on the mantel-piece, and the key of the
drawer under one of a row of volumes on a book shelf. All these
precautions had been rendered necessary by the presence of the
dishonest girl in the house.

Fanny, having carefully observed where the keys were placed, ran up
stairs, and presently appeared, dressed for school. Mrs. Green gave her
the money for which she had asked, and having satisfied herself that
the refractory girl had actually departed for school, she went up
stairs to attend to her usual duties. Fanny went as far as the road,
and then, instead of turning to the left, she went to the right, and
keeping in the shadow of the trees, reached the rear of the mansion.
From this point she crept round to the piazza, from which she passed
into the library.

"She can't cheat me!" said Fanny, again congratulating herself upon her
own cunning. "She'll find, before night, that I'm too much for her."

The wicked girl then went to the vase, and taking from it the key,
opened the closet. From the place where she had stood, she could not
determine exactly under which book the key of the drawer had been
placed; but after raising half a dozen of them, she found the object of
her search. The drawer was opened, and on the top of several bundles of
papers lay a pocket-book. Her eyes snapped with unwonted fire as she
discovered the prize.

She opened it, and found a great roll of bills; in one of the pockets
there was a mass of currency. There was no great staring placard, with
"Thou shalt not steal" printed upon it, but the words seemed to be
spoken from her own breast--seemed to be thundering in her soul. But
Fanny was excited by the prospect of the stolen joys, in which she had
been revelling in anticipation for a fortnight, and she heeded not the
voice from her breast, and silenced the thunder-tones that rolled
through her soul.

"Shall I take it all?" whispered she, as she gazed on the great pile of
"greenbacks and currency." "I may as well be hung for an old sheep as a
lamb," she added, as she gathered up the money, and th