r the visit of Fanny as agreeable as possible; but
she did not seem in as good spirits as usual--her eyes were dreamy,
and her voice had in it a shade of sadness.

Toward evening, she walked out with Flora and her brother. The
conversation turned on the beautiful in nature, and Mr. Willet
talked in his earnest way--every sentence full of poetry to the ears
of at least one absorbed listener. In a pause of the conversation,
Flora left them and went back to the house. For a little while the
silence continued, and then Mr. Willet said, in a tone so changed
that its echo in the maiden's heart made every pulse beat quicker,--

"Fanny, there is one question that I have long desired to ask."

She lifted her eyes to his face timidly, and looked steadily at him
for a few moments; then, as they fell to the ground, she replied--

"You can ask no question that it will not give me pleasure to
answer."

"But this, I fear, will give you pain," said he.

"Pain, you have taught me, is often a salutary discipline."

"True, and may it be so in the present instance. It is not unknown
to me that Mr. Lyon once held a place in your regard--I will go
farther, and say in your affections."

Fanny started, and moved a step from him; but he continued--

"The question I wish to ask is, does there yet remain in your heart
a single point that gives back a reflection of his image? In plainer
words, is he any thing to you?"

"No, nothing!" was the emphatic, almost indignant, answer.

"It is said," resumed Mr. Willet, "that you once loved him."

"He came to me," replied Fanny, "a young, artless, trusting girl, as
an angel of light. Nay, I was only a child, whose ears were unused
to warmer words than fell from the loving lips of parents. Suddenly,
he opened before me a world of enchantment. My whole being was on
fire with a delicious passion. I believed him true and good, and
loved him, because, in my eyes, he was the embodiment of all human
perfections. But time proved that I had only loved an enchanting
ideal, and my heart rejected him with intense loathing."

"Enough," said Willet; "I feel that it must be so."

The two remained silent for the space of nearly a minute; Mr. Willet
then resumed--

"Forgive me if my question has seemed indelicate, and be assured
that I asked it from no idle curiosity. Let me go a little farther;
and, my dear young lady, retain your calmness of spirit. Look into
your heart, but keep every pulsation under c