“I can remember, sir,--though I can but just remember it,--that my father was taken away from me once, and I never saw him again.” “And, what's your name?” continued the doctor in evident excitement. “Fanny Woodruff,” she replied. The doctor's features became pale and rigid, and his eyes were fixed upon her almost immoveably. “God bless my soul!” he slowly ejaculated, as he rose to leave the room; “she should have been lost, or dead!” But he turned again when at the head of the stairs. “Now, young woman,--if you can keep a secret,--tell nobody, not even your mistress, what has passed. Take no notice; and perhaps I may do something for you. But I thought we had seen the last of your face seventeen years ago!” Fanny and Colin were left alone. “He knows something about me!” was the first thought that arose in Fanny's mind. But she did not utter it, and only asked very softly, if Colin had heard what the doctor said. “Yes,” he replied, “and I shall never forget it.” “But, say nothing,” added the girl: “he promised to do something for me. I wonder what it is!” “So do I,” added Colin; “something worth having, I dare say.” Thus they talked till evening. Colin said how much better he felt since she had been with him; and Fanny declared she would not leave him again for another day, until he was well; and, when he was well, then she would get him away from such unfeeling people, even though she had to go down on her knees to beg another situation for him elsewhere. When, some little time afterwards, Fanny went down stairs, and informed the mistress of the house of her resolution to stay and attend on Colin until he was better, that amiable creature replied, “I think you won't then. We have not any room to spare. As if I was going to keep beds at liberty, to accommodate any trunnion that may think fit to cram herself into my house! We've plenty of work on our hands without having to wait on other people's servants. What do you say, Palethorpe?” “Well, I don't know, meesis,” replied Mr. Palethorpe; “it seems as if Mr. Rowel was understood to say he was very bad, and must be waited on pretty constantly.” “I'm sure _I_ sha'n't wait on him neither constantly nor inconstantly!” very pertly exclaimed Miss Sowersoft; and certainly giving a very ingenious turn to her own views, as soon as she found which way her lover's needle pointed; “_I_'m not going to trot up and down stairs a thousand times a day for the sake of such a thing as a plough-lad. Them may wait on him that likes him, if he is to be waited on; but I'm positive _I_ shan't, nor anybody else that belongs to me!” This conclusion left, without another word, the field wholly open to Fanny; and as Miss Sowersoft, on concluding her speech, bounced off into the dairy, not another word was needed.