de
radiant with gems,--jewels shall sparkle on that fair neck, and on those
taper fingers,--you shall ride in a carriage, and have servants to wait
on you,--and you shall sleep on a downy bed, and live in a grand house,
like this. Say, will not all these fine things be better than selling
fruit in the cold streets?"

But the sobbing girl implored him to let her go home. The gentleman
ground his teeth with rage.

"Well, well," said he, after a brief pause, and speaking in an assumed
tone of kindness, "you _shall_ go home, since you wish it." He rang a
bell, and the old negro woman appeared, to whom he whispered for a few
moments, and then left the room.

"Come, Miss," said the old wench, addressing Fanny, with a grin that was
anything but encouraging or expressive of a friendly feeling--"come with
me up stairs, and wash the tears from your pretty face; then you shall
go home--ha, ha, ha!"

It was a demon's laugh, full of malice and hatred; yet Fanny smiled
through her tears, for she saw not the old wretch's malignity, and only
thought of her escape from the danger which had menaced her, and
anticipated the happiness she should feel when once more in safety
beneath her own humble roof, in the society of all she held dear on
earth. Joyfully did she follow the old wench up stairs and into an
apartment still more handsomely furnished than the one below; but what
was her astonishment and affright, when her sable conductress gave her a
violent push which threw her violently to the floor, and then quickly
left the room and locked the door! A presentiment that she was
imprisoned, and for the worst of purposes, flashed through her mind, and
she made the apartment resound with her shrieks. But, alas! no help was
near--no friendly hand was there to burst open the door of her prison,
and rescue her from a house, within whose walls she was threatened with
the worst fate that can befall a helpless maiden--the loss of her honor.
Her loud shrieks penetrated not beyond the precincts of that massive
building--her calls for help were answered only by the taunting laugh of
the black hag outside, who loaded her with alternate abuse, threats, and
curses. At last, exhausted and despairing, poor Fanny threw herself upon
the carpet, and prayed--oh, how earnestly!--that no harm might happen to
her, which could call the blush of shame to her cheek, or make her poor
grandfather think of her as a lost, polluted thing.

Somewhat relieved by thi