pen to them stores of such strange and delightful
things as was never before dreamed of in their youthful
philosophy--while their patient, painstaking mother would now and then
glance up from her never-ending task, with a smile of such beaming
pleasure and gratitude as amply repaid the gentle being, who seemed in
her loveful employ to be the presiding angel of that humble
dwelling-place. Whether she would "happen-in" of a long, warm summer
afternoon to take a cup of tea with a neighboring farmer's wife--an
honor that never failed to throw that worthy woman into a perfect
fever of anxiety and delight--who would proffer a thousand and one
apologies for the deficiencies that only existed in her own perverse
imagination, if, indeed, they existed even there, for her bright eyes
were contradicting a pair of rosy lips all the while, as they glanced
with a lurking--yet I am sure laudable--pride, from the "new chany
sett" (which was wont on great occasions to be brought forward) to the
rich treasures of her well-kept dairy, that her busy feet had been
going pat-a-pat from cupboard to cellar, and cellar to cupboard, for a
whole hour previous collecting, to place in all their tempting
freshness before her beloved guest. Or whether she came with her
simple offering of fresh flowers--her word of sympathy and comfort--or
some choice dainty, that seemed "_so_ nice" to the sick and suffering,
who had turned away with loathing from every thing before, but who
could not fail to find _this_ delicious, for was it not made and
brought by the hands of dear Miss Fanny's self? Still did her presence
seem to make sunlight wherever she went!

Fanny was a young lady now--although you would scarce believe it, for
she was a very child at heart, with all a child's unworldliness,
unsuspecting confidence, and winning innocence. And yet there was
deep, deep down in that loveful, earnest heart, that Joy and all Joy's
sister spirits seemed to have taken captive, a fount whose seal had
never been found.

Oh, Fanny, dear, darling Fanny Layton! wo, wo for thee the day when
first that hidden seal was broken! When Hope and Doubt and Fear by
turns played sentinel to the hidden treasure, the door to which, when
once flung back, never can be reclosed again! When joy and gladness
but tarried a little while to dispute their prior right to revel
undisturbed in that buoyant heart of thine, and then went tearfully
forth, leaving for aye a dreary void, and a deep, d