While Mr. Middleton was thus expending his fury, Fanny was alone in her room, struggling hard to subdue the bitter feelings which were rising in her heart. Until now she had not been aware how much she loved Dr. Lacey. True, she had said it was impossible she could ever marry him; and she had believed she was trying to forget him; but ever in her heart she had, perhaps unconsciously, cherished a half formed belief that all would yet be well, and when she refused the noble, generous heart which Frank Cameron laid at her feet, it was with a vague hope that Dr. Lacey would yet be hers. But now every hope was gone. "There is nothing left for me," said Fanny, "but woe, woe!" ’Twas fearful—the tide of sorrow which swept over the young girl, but amid the wild storm of passion came the echo of a still, small voice, whispering of one who loves with more than an earthly love, who never proves faithless—never fails. Fanny listened to the Spirit’s pleadings and resolved that henceforth she would seek to place her affections where "there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." The whirlwind of excitement passed over, leaving no trace to mark its passage, save a fixed calm expression, which a more violent demonstration of feeling would not have done. The week following the receipt of Julia’s letter Mr. Middleton had business which took him to Frankfort. Fanny accompanied him and remained several days. The morning after her arrival she and Mr. Stanton were walking upon the upper balcony at Mrs. Crane’s, when they were joined by Ashton, who had returned from New Orleans a few days before. He had always been a frequent visitor there, but since his return, his visits had been more frequent and of longer duration. There was to him something very fascinating about Stanton’s fair bride, and yet he always felt uneasy when with her, for her manners and appearance reminded him of the past. This morning, however, the mystery was explained, but in what way he could not tell. Soon after he appeared on the balcony, Nellie pointed to a gentleman who was crossing the street and inquired his name. On being told she replied: "He looks very much like a Mr. Barnard I used to know years ago in ——," mentioning the town where she was born. "Used to know where?" asked Ashton quickly. Nellie repeated the name and Ashton said, "Why, that’s my native town, and I knew Mr. Barnard well." Then as if the light of a sudden revelation fell upon him, he added, "And your name, too, was Nellie Ashton? I once had a sister Nellie, on whose rosy cheeks I dropped a tear the night I ran away to sea. Can it be that you are that Nellie?"