rogressed 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?"

"Oh, father! father! And is it from you this question comes?"
exclaimed Fanny, clasping her hands together and then pressing them
tightly against her bosom.

"He spoke of you in his letter with great kindness," said Mr.
Markland. "I know that he has been deeply absor