"You are a good girl to submit so readily," said Mrs. Carrington, laying her white hand on Fanny’s head. But Fanny’s eyes were full of tears, and she did not answer; and Mrs. Carrington, sure of Dr. Lacey’s attendance that evening, left the room exulting in the result of her plan. In a short time she deserted to the parlor, where she found Mr. Wilmot with Julia, but no Dr. Lacey, neither did he make his appearance at all, and after waiting impatiently for a time, she was at last obliged to accept the arm of the poor pedagogue, which was rather unwillingly offered, for Mr. Wilmot greatly preferred having Julia all to himself. She had become as dear to him as his own life and, in his opinion, her character was like her face—perfect. Deluded man! ’Twas well that he died before he had come to a knowledge of her sinfulness. But to return to Fanny. After she was left alone by her sister, she threw herself upon the sofa, and burst into tears; but at length, wiping them away, she arose and went down to the parlor, determined to have a nice time practicing her music lesson. It was rather hard and with untiring patience she played it over and over, until she was suddenly startled by a voice behind her, saying, "Really, Miss Fanny, you are persevering." Looking up she saw Dr. Lacey, who had entered unperceived. "Why, Dr. Lacey," said she, "how you frightened me! Why are you not at the reading?" "Because," answered he, "when my lady breaks her engagement, I think I, too, can remain at home. But why did you change your mind, Miss Fanny? I thought you were anxious to go." Fanny blushed painfully, and the tears came to her eyes, but she replied, "I was anxious to go, but they thought I had better not." "And who is they?" asked the doctor; "and why did they think you had better not go?" Fanny answered, "Mrs. Carrington and Julia said I was too young to go out with—" "With such a bad man as I am," said Dr. Lacey, laughing. "Oh, no," said Fanny; "they do not think you bad; they said with any gentleman." "Too young, are you?" said Dr. Lacey. "How old are you, Fanny?" "I was sixteen last May," she replied. "Sixteen; just as old as Anna was when she died, and just as old as my mother was when she was married; so it seems you are not too young to die, or to be married either, if you are too young to go out with me," said Dr. Lacey. Fanny did not reply; and he continued, "Whom would you have gone with if you had not spent your money this morning for those old aunts?"