from the apartment and went in quest of her sister. She found
her, as she had expected, in her room, and going up to her threw her arms
around her neck, and plead long and earnestly that she would go to Mr.
Wilmot. But Julia's answer was ever the same, "No, I will not."

"And why will you not?" asked Fanny.

"Because," replied Julia, "Mr. Wilmot is nothing to me, and there is no
reason why I should go to him, more than to any other lovesick youth who
takes a fancy to send for me. You would not feel obliged to run if Bill
Jeffrey should have the measles and send for you."

"Oh, stop, stop," said Fanny, "you shall not liken Bill Jeffrey to Mr.
Wilmot, who is so good, so noble. You loved him once, and for the sake of
that love go to him now; it can do you no harm."

"It would seriously affect my plans for the future; and once for all, I
tell you I will not go," replied Julia.

"Then I will," said Fanny, "and show him that I, at least, have not
forgotten him."

This idea pleased Julia, and she answered, "I wish you would, for your
presence will do as much good as mine."

Fanny hastily ran down stairs and, going to her mother, said, "Mother,
Julia will not go, but I will. I should like to very much. Will you let
me?"

Mrs. Middleton was too much engrossed in her painful thoughts to give much
heed to what Fanny said. She only knew that she wished her to consent to
something, and she mechanically answered, "Yes, yes, go." It was then
after sunset, and as the sky had all day been cloudy, darkness was fast
gathering over the earth, but Fanny heeded it not. She bade Ike make
haste, and in a few moments her favorite pony was saddled. Ike's horse was
then got in readiness, and they were soon galloping off in the direction
of Frankfort. 'Twas a long ride of twelve miles and the darkness increased
every moment, while a steady, drizzling rain commenced falling. Still
Fanny kept perseveringly on, occasionally speaking an encouraging word to
Ike, who pulled his old cap closely over his ears and muttered, "Lord
bless young miss. Seems like 'twas her was done promised to young marster,
a puttin' out this desput night to see him."

But Fanny kept her thoughts to herself, and while she is making her way to
Frankfort, we will precede her and see what is taking place in the sick
room. The large drops of sweat which stood upon Mr. Wilmot's high, white
forehead, showed that the hour of dissolution was at hand. His mind was
wandering,