lmot, I did not write it. It
is Fanny who is speaking to you." But Mr. Wilmot understood only the first
part of what she said, and continued, "I knew you did not, I am satisfied
now to die; and yet 'tis hard to die when I am so young and so far from
home, but it is sweet to know that I have your love to the last. When I am
dead, you will tell them at home how I loved and prayed for them. My
mother will weep bitterly for her son, who died so far away, but she does
not love me as well as you do, does she, dearest?"

Just then Dr. Lacey entered the room. He seemed surprised to see Fanny
there, and to hear the words of endearment addressed to her by Mr. Wilmot,
but Mr. Miller softly told him of the mistake. This seemed to satisfy him,
but he anxiously noted every change of Fanny's countenance. At last Mr.
Wilmot said, "If you did not write that letter, who did? Was it, could it
have been your sister?"

"Oh, no! No!" said Fanny, "I did not write it."

"I know you did not, dearest," said he; "you would not do such a thing,
but who did? I cannot think it was Fanny, who was always so gentle, so
guileless."

Poor Fanny! She felt that her beloved teacher was dying with a suspicion
of her innocence, and she wept most bitterly. At last a change passed over
Mr. Wilmot's face, a change which showed that the last trying moment had
come. It frequently occurs with dying persons that at the last their
faculties are for a moment fully restored. So it was with Mr. Wilmot. A
bright smile broke over his face and looking up at Mr. Miller, he said, "I
thank my Heavenly Father I can see again. Now, where is Julia? I would
look on her face once more."

"I told you," said Mr. Miller, "that you were mistaken; it is not Julia."

"Not Julia!" said Mr. Wilmot, again becoming delirious. "Not Julia! It
cannot be true." Then drawing Fanny toward him he looked earnestly in her
face. Slowly the bitter truth broke over his mind, and he said, "Yes, I
was mistaken! But I bless you for coming; but Julia, my too dearly loved
Julia--she is not here. Oh, if I can never see her in this world, shall I
see her in heaven?"

They were the last words he ever uttered. Falling back on his pillow, he
drew Fanny's face to his, and with his last breath kissed her quivering
lips, and all was over. Sadly Mr. Miller closed the eyes of his departed
friend, and smoothing the covering about him, left him to the care of the
servants. A few hours later, Fanny entered the ro