ure being, with the feelings which every fair face
may awaken to every coarse heart--to love Fanny! No, it was impossible!
For what could he love in her but beauty, which the very spirit had
forgotten to guard? And she--could she even know what love was? He
despised himself for even admitting such a thought; and with that iron
and hardy vigour which belonged to his mind, resolved to watch closely
against every fancy that would pass the fairy boundary which separated
Fanny from the world of women.

He was roused from this self-commune by an abrupt exclamation from his
companion.

"Oh! I recollect now why I asked you that question. There is one thing
that always puzzles me--I want you to explain it. Why does everything in
life depend upon money? You see even my poor grandfather forgot how
good you are to us both, when--when Ah! I don't understand--it pains--it
puzzles me!"

"Fanny, look there--no, to the left--you see that old woman, in rags,
crawling wearily along; turn now to the right--you see that fine house
glancing through the trees, with a carriage and four at the gates? The
difference between that old woman and the owner of that house is--Money;
and who shall blame your grandfather for liking Money?"

Fanny understood; and while the wise man thus moralised, the girl, whom
his very compassion so haughtily contemned, moved away to the old woman
to do her little best to smooth down those disparities from which wisdom
and moralising never deduct a grain! Vaudemont felt this as he saw her
glide towards the beggar; but when she came bounding back to him, she
had forgotten his dislike to her songs, and was chaunting, in the glee
of the heart that a kind act had made glad, one of her own impromptu
melodies.

Vaudemont turned away. Poor Fanny had unconsciously decided his
self-conquest; she guessed not what passed within him, but she suddenly
recollected--what he had said to her about her songs, and fancied him
displeased.

"Ah I will never do it again. Brother, don't turn away!"

"But we must go home. Hark! the clock strikes seven--I have no time to
lose. And you will promise me never to stir out till I return?"

"I shall have no heart to stir out," said Fanny, sadly; and then in a
more cheerful voice, she added, "And I shall sing the songs you like
before you come back again!"

CHAPTER VIII.

"Well did they know that service all by rote;

Some singing loud as if they had complained,
So