Tempest and Sunshine

It was now the first day of May, and as it was also Fanny's seventeenth

birthday, her school companions determined to celebrate it by a May party,

of which Fanny was unanimously chosen queen. The fete took place in a

handsome grove on a hillside which overlooked the city of Frankfort. All

of Mr. Miller's pupils were present, together with most of their parents

and many of their friends. Mrs. Miller had taken great pains that Fanny

should be arrayed becomingly for the occasion, and many and flattering

were the compliments paid to the youthful queen, who indeed looked

bewitchingly beautiful.

Her dress was a white muslin, festooned with wild flowers, some of which

were fastened here and there by a pearl or brilliant. The gayety of the

little party was at its height, and when Fanny, gracefully kneeling,

received upon her head the crown, and was proclaimed "Queen of the May," a

strange voice called out in loud, musical tones, "Viva la Reine." The

whole company instantly caught up the words, and "Long live the Queen" was

echoed and re-echoed on all sides.

When the tumult had somewhat subsided the eyes of those present were

turned toward the spot whence the words "Viva la Reine" had proceeded.

Leaning against one of the tall shade trees were two gentlemen, who had

joined them unobserved. The elder of the strangers was a middle-aged man,

in whose piercing black eyes and dark complexion we recognize the Mr.

Middleton whom we left with Dr. Lacey in New Orleans. His companion was

many years younger, and there was something in his appearance which

instantly interested and attracted the notice of strangers. There was a

nobleness in the intellectual cast of his high, white forehead, round

which his rich brown hair lay in thick masses, as if unwilling to part

with the curl which must have been natural to it in childhood.

No sooner did Kate's eyes fall on the young man than she darted forward

with a cry of recognition and exclaimed, "Why, Frank Cameron, how came you

here?"

But before he answers Kate's question, we will introduce him to our

readers. Frank Cameron was a cousin of Kate Wilmot. His father, who was a

lawyer by profession, had amassed a large fortune, on the interest of

which he was now living in elegant style in the city of New York. Frank,

who was the eldest child, had chosen the profession of his father,

contrary to the wishes of his proud lady mother, who looked upon all

professions as too plebeian to suit her ideas of gentility. This

aristocratic lady had forgotten the time when, with blue cotton umbrella

and thick India rubbers, she had plodded through the mud and water of the

streets in Albany, giving music lessons for her own and widowed mother's

maintenance. One of her pupils was Kate Wilmot's mother, Lucy Cameron.

While giving lessons to her she first met Lucy's brother, Arthur Cameron,

who afterward became her husband. He was attracted by her extreme beauty

and his admiration was increased on learning her praiseworthy efforts to

maintain herself and mother. They were married, and with increasing years

came increasing wealth, until at length Mr. Cameron was a millionaire and

retired from business.