whatever, was made to the occurrences of the day
previous. Evening came, but not as usual came Edward Allen. The next
day, and the next went by, without his accustomed appearance. For a
whole week his visits were omitted.

Grievous was the change which, in that time, had become visible in
Fanny Lovering. The very light of her life seemed to go out
suddenly; and, for a while, she had groped about in thick darkness.
A few feeble rays were again becoming visible; but from a quarter of
the heavens where she had not expected light. Wisely, gently, and
unobtrusively had Mrs. Waring, during this period of gloom and
distress, cast high truths into the mind of her suffering niece--and
from these, as stars in the firmament of thought, came the rays by
which she was able to see a path opening before her. When, at the
end of the tenth day of uncertainty, came a note from Allen, in
these brief words: "If it is Miss Lovering's wish to be free from
her engagement, a word will annul the contract"--she replied, within
ten minutes, "Let the contract be annulled; you are free."

Two weeks later, and Mr. Lovering brought home the intelligence that
Allen was to be married in a few days to a certain Miss Jerrold,
daughter of a man reputed wealthy.

"To Miss Jerrold! It cannot be!" said Mrs. Lovering in surprise.

"I will not believe it, father." Fanny spoke with quivering lips and
a choking voice.

"Who is Miss Jerrold?" asked Mrs. Waring.

"A coarse, vulgar-minded girl, of whom many light things have been
said," replied Mrs. Lovering, indignantly. "But her father is rich,
and she is an only child."

"He never loved you, dear," said Mrs. Waring to Fanny about a week
later, as the yet suffering girl laid her tearful face on her bosom.
The news had just come that Miss Jerrold was the bride of Allen. The
frame of the girl thrilled for a moment or two; then all was calm,
and she replied--

"Not as I wished to be loved. O aunt! what an escape I have made! I
look down the fearful gulf on the very brink of which my feet were
arrested, and shudder to the heart's core. If he could take her, he
never could have appreciated me. Something more than maiden purity
and virtue attracted him. Ah! how could my instincts have been so at
fault!"

"Dear child," said Mrs. Waring, earnestly, "there can be no true
love, as I have before said to you, without an appreciation of
quality. A fine person, agreeable manners, social position--in a
word, all ex