tered her
mind. While she was yet weeping an arm was thrown affectionately round
her, and a voice whispered in the sweetest possible tones, "Dear sister,
do not weep so. If he were dead, some one would inform you. And now I
think of it, why do you not write to him? There would be no harm in doing
so. Come, sit down, and write him a few lines before dark, and I will take
them to the office."

So Fanny sat down to her writing desk, and the few lines proved to be a
long letter ere she had finished. It was a most touchingly sad letter, and
ought to have drawn tears from Julia, instead of forcing the malicious
smile which played around her mouth while reading her sister's effusion.
It is needless to say that, although Julia went to the post office, this
letter never did but was placed in a little box by the side of two others,
which had arrived from Dr. Lacey that week.

After Julia returned from her walk that evening she said, "Fanny, if I
were you I would not tell any one that I did not hear from Dr. Lacey, for
you know it's just possible that he may not be sick, and in that case your
best way would be to seem quite as forgetful of him."

"Forgetful!" said Fanny. "Why, Julia, what do you mean? You cannot--Oh, no,
I know you do not think Dr. Lacey untrue to me?" And Fanny's large blue
eyes were fixed on her sister with as much earnestness as though her
answer could decide her fate forever.

"I do not like to think so, any more than you do," said Julia. "But Dr.
Lacey is now in the gay city of New Orleans, surrounded by beauty and
fashion, and were I his betrothed, I should not think it strange if he did
not remain true to me."

Fanny answered slowly, as if speaking were painful to her, "Oh, no, no! He
cannot be false--anything but that."

It was a new idea to her, and that night a weight of sadness, heavier than
she had ever known before, filled her heart. She thought, "I will wait and
see if he answers my letter before I believe him unfaithful."

The next day was the Sabbath. About church time Julia announced her
intentions of remaining at home on the plea of a violent headache. Fanny
immediately offered to stay with her, but Julia declined, saying that
sooner than both should be absent from church she would go herself.

Accordingly Julia was left alone. She watched her sister until she
disappeared down the street. Then she arose, and locking the door, drew
from her pocket a small key, and unlocking a rosewood box,