How little there was in all this to allay anxiety, or reconcile the heart to a long separation from its life-partner, is clear to every one. Mrs. Markland saw that her husband wished to conceal from her the exact position of his affairs, and this but gave her startled imagination power to conjure up the most frightful images. Fears for the safety of her husband during a long journey in a distant country, where few traces of civilization could yet be found, were far more active than concern for the result of his business. Of that she knew but little; and, so far as its success or failure had power to affect her, experienced but little anxiety. On this account, her trouble was all for him. Time progressed until the period of Markland's departure was near at hand. He had watched, painfully, the slow progress of change in Fanny's state of mind. There was yet no satisfactory aspect. The fact of his near departure had ruffled the surface of her feelings, and given a hectic warmth to her cheeks and a tearful brightness to her eyes. Most earnestly had she entreated him, over and over again, not to leave them. "Home will no longer be like home, dear father, when you are far absent," she said to him, pleadingly, a few days before the appointed time for departure had come. "Do not go away." "It is no desire to leave home that prompts the journey, Fanny, love," he answered, drawing his arm around her and pressing her closely to his side. "At the call of duty, none of us should hesitate to obey." "Duty, father?" Fanny did not comprehend the meaning of his words. "It is the duty of all men to thoroughly comprehend what they are doing, and to see that their business is well conducted at every point." "I did not before understand that you had business in that distant country," said Fanny. "I am largely interested there," replied Mr. Markland, speaking as though the admission to her was half-extorted. "Not with Mr. Lyon, I hope?" said Fanny, quickly and earnestly. It was the first time she had mentioned his name since the day his cold allusion to her had nearly palsied her heart. "Why not with Mr. Lyon, my child? Do you know any thing in regard to him that would make such a connection perilous to my interest?" Mr. Markland looked earnestly into the face of his daughter. Her eyes did not fall from his, but grew brighter, and her person became more erect. There was something of indignant surprise in the expression of her countenance. "Do you know any thing in regard to him that would make the connection perilous to my interest?" repeated Mr. Markland. "Will that man be true to the father, who is false to his child?" said Fanny, in a deep, hoarse voice. He looked long and silently into her face, his mind bewildered by the searching interrogatory. "False to you, Fanny!" he at length said, in a confused way. "Has he been false to you?"