her wishes, and saw her seldom
alone. By particular request, also, he took no part in the plenishing
and embellishing of the new abode--not permitted even to inquire where
it was situated; and, under this cover, besides the pleasure of having
her own way, Fanny concealed a little secret, which, when disclosed,
she now felt, would figure forth Philip's comprehension, her whole
scheme of future happiness. She had taken the elder brother into her
counsels a fortnight after Philip's return, and, with his aid and
consent, had abandoned the original idea of a house in town, purchased
a beautifully-secluded estate and _cottage ornee_, on the East River,
and transferred thither all the objects of art, furniture, etc. One
room only of the maternal mansion was permitted to contribute its quota
to the completion of the bridal dwelling--the wing, never since
inhabited, in which Philip had made his essay as a painter--and,
without variation of a cobweb, and, with whimsical care and effort on
the part of Miss Fanny, this apartment was reproduced at Revedere--her
own picture on the easel, as it stood on the night of his abandonment
of his art, and palette, pencils and colors in tempting readiness on
the table. Even the fire-grate of the old studio had been re-set in the
new, and the cottage throughout had been refitted with a view to
occupation in the winter. And to sundry hints on the part of the elder
brother, that some thought should be given to a city residence--for the
Christmas holidays at least--Fanny replied, through a blush, that she
would never wish to see the town--with Philip at Revedere!

Five years had ripened and mellowed the beauty of Fanny Bellairs, and
the same summer-time of youth had turned into fruit the feeling left by
Philip in bud and flower. She was ready now for love. She had felt the
variable temper of society, and there was a presentiment in the heart,
of receding flatteries and the winter of life. It was with mournful
self-reproach that she thought of the years wasted in separation, of
her own choosing, from the man she loved; and, with the power to recall
time, she would have thanked God with tears of joy for the privilege of
retracing the chain of life to that link of parting. Not worth a day of
those lost years, she bitterly confessed to herself, was the wealth
they had purchased.

It lacked as little as one week of "the happy day," when the workmen
were withdrawn from Revedere, and the preparations f