at the more of love
and truth we subtract from our store, the more we have left in our own
heart.

Fanny Jane was undoubtedly a very naughty girl. We do not mean to say
that she was merely rude and unlady-like in her manners; that she was
occasionally angry without a just cause; that she had a few bad habits,
and a few venial faults: she was impudent to her benefactors; she was
untruthful, and even dishonest. Not only to Fanny and Bertha, but also
to Mr. Grant, she was openly defiant. She used bad language, told
falsehoods by wholesale, and had several times been detected in
stealing valuable articles from the house.

Yet with all her faults and failings, there were some good traits in
Fanny Jane, though they seemed like the two grains of wheat in the
bushel of chaff. What these redeeming features of her character were,
we shall let our story disclose. One meeting the wayward girl on the
lawn for a moment, or spending a few hours in the house with her, would
have been deceived, as Mr. Grant had been, for her black eyes were full
of animation; her manner was spirited, and her answers were quick and
sharp. She was light and rather graceful in form; she did not appear to
walk; she flashed about like a meteor. She was bold and daring in her
flights, and as strong as most boys of her years. She would not run
away from a rude boy; she laughed in the thunder storm, and did not
fear to go through the glen at midnight.

Bertha and Fanny had gone up to Hudson to spend a few days with the
family of Mr. Sherwood's father, previous to their departure for
Europe. This visit had been talked about for a fortnight, and the
wayward girl knew that it was to take place. Contrary to her usual
custom, she made the fairest of promises to her kind mistress, who,
from this very readiness, suspected her sincerity; and her fears were
more than realized.

Fanny Jane stood at the open door gazing at the carriage until it
disappeared beyond the hill. Her black eyes snapped under the stimulus
of certain exciting thoughts which agitated her mind. When the carriage
could no longer be seen, she slammed the front door, and bounded like a
gazelle across the entry to the library of Mr. Grant, which she
entered, closing the door behind her.

"O, yes! I'll be good!" laughed she; "I'm always good! Send me to my
uncle's? I should like to see them do it! I won't go! There are not men
and women enough at Woodville to make me go!"

Then she bounded to the