have none but yourselves to blame. Forewarned,
forearmed, is a wise saying, by which you seem in no way inclined to
profit."

Even while this conversation was in progress, the subject of it had
taken herself away to the sweet, retired spot where, since her
meeting with Mr. Lyon, she had felt herself drawn daily with an
almost irresistible influence. As she passed through the thick,
encircling grove that surrounded the open space where the beautiful
summer-house stood and the silvery waters sported among the statues,
she was startled by a rustling noise, as of some one passing near.
She stopped suddenly, her heart beating with a rapid motion, and
listened intently. Was she deceived, or did her eyes really get
uncertain glimpses of a form hurriedly retiring through the trees?
For nearly a minute she stood almost as still as one of the marble
figures that surrounded the fountain. Then, with slow, almost
stealthy footsteps, she moved onward, glancing, as she did so, from
side to side, and noting every object in the range of vision with a
sharp scrutiny. On gaining the summer-house, the first object that
met her eyes was a folded letter, lying upon the marble table. To
spring forward and seize it was the work of an instant. It bore her
own name, and in the now familiar hand of Lee Lyon!

A strong agitation seized upon the frame of the young girl, as she
caught up the unexpected letter. It was some moments before her
trembling fingers could break the seal and unfold the missive. Then
her eyes drank in, eagerly, its contents:

"MY EVER DEAR FANNY:--Since our meeting at the fountain, I cannot
say to you all that I would say in any letter under care to your
father, and so I entrust this to a faithful messenger, who will see
that it reaches your hands. I am now far to the South again, in
prosecution of most important business, the safe progress of which
would be interrupted, and the whole large result endangered, were
your father to know of my visit at Woodbine Lodge at a time when he
thought me hundreds of miles distant. So, for his sake, as well as
my own, be discreet for a brief period. I will not long permit this
burden of secrecy to lie upon your dear young heart--oh no! I could
not be so unjust to you. Your truest, best, wisest counsellor is
your mother, and she should know all that is in your heart. Keep
your secret only for a little while, and then I will put you in full
liberty to speak of all that has just occurred.