lse."

Memories of other days came thronging about him, and he then resolved
again to write and beseech Fanny at least to grant him her second love,
even if her first, best affections had been given to another.

"Suppose she refuses you," seemed whispered in his ear.

It must have been some evil spirit which prompted the reply, "Then I will
marry Julia, as being next and nearest to Fanny." His resolution once
taken, he proceeded to carry it into effect. The letter was written and
over Dr. Lacey came a sense of relief--a feeling that he had escaped from
something, he knew not what. But she, who was upon his track, was more
wily, more crafty than anything he had ever imagined.

This time, however, her interference was not necessary, for early next
morning a carriage drew up in front of the Indian Nest. From it sprang
Lida Gibson, who had recently returned from New York. She was full of
talk, and within an hour after her arrival the story of Fanny's engagement
with Frank Cameron had been repeated in Dr. Lacey's hearing at least three
times.

"It must be true," said Lida, "for every one said so, and their actions
proclaimed it, if nothing more; besides, Mr. Cameron's sister, Gertrude
herself, told me it was so."

"I am not surprised," said Julia and her uncle both.

For Julia's opinion Dr. Lacey possibly might not have cared, but when Mr.
Middleton too added his testimony, the matter was settled. The letter was
not sent.

During the day Lida wondered much why Dr. Lacey stayed so closely in his
room. "I should think he would roast in there," said she. "I do wonder
what he is about?"

"I fancy," answered Florence, "that he still loves Fanny, and now that she
is engaged he is staying alone until he gets his rebellious heart tied
up."

When Lida afterward learned the truth, she expressed a wish that her
tongue might have been cut out ere she had been the bearer of news which
caused so much trouble.

While Dr. Lacey was securely bolted in his room, nerving himself to bear
this fresh disappointment and striving to drive each thought of Fanny from
him, Julia too was alone and busily engaged. What pains she took to rub
and soil those tiny sheets of paper, until they assumed a worn and
crumpled look! Then dipping her finger in the silver goblet at her side,
what perfect tear blots she made, and how she exulted over the probable
success of her morning's work! When it was finished she placed it in her
portfolio, and wait