Tempest and Sunshine

From this remark of Fanny's the reader will understand that she was well

aware of the part her sister was playing. And she was perfectly satisfied

that it should be so, for by this means she occasionally got a pleasant

word from Julia. She, however, often wished that Mr. Wilmot could be

constantly with her sister, for his presence in the house did not prevent

her from expending her wrath upon both Fanny and the blacks.

For some days after the affair of the preserves, Mr. Wilmot was somewhat

cool in his manner toward Julia, who had discernment enough to attribute

the change to the right cause. Earnestly did she desire to win back his

esteem, and she accordingly cast about for some method by which she could

undo what she had done. She could think of no way except to acknowledge

her error to Mr. Wilmot and promise to do better in the future. So one

evening when her father, mother and Fanny were absent, and she was alone

with him, she adroitly led the conversation to the circumstance of her

spoiled merino. She acknowledged that it was very unamiable and unladylike

to manifest such passionate feelings, said she knew she had a quick

temper, but she tried hard to govern it; and if Mr. Wilmot would, as her

teacher and friend, aid her by his advice and influence, she was sure she

would in time succeed. So nicely did she manage each part of her

confession that Mr. Wilmot was thoroughly deceived. He believed her

perfectly sincere, and greatly admired what he thought to be her frank,

confiding disposition.

From that time she was dearer to him than ever and Julia, again sure of

his esteem, placed a double guard upon her temper, and in his presence was

the very "pink" of amiability! Affairs were gliding smoothly on, when the

family received a visit from a gentleman, whom Julia would rather not have

seen. This was Mr. Miller, whom we have mentioned as having taught in that

neighborhood the winter before. Mr. Wilmot found him in the sitting room

one night, on his return from school. When the young men were introduced

they regarded each other a moment in silence, then their hands were

cordially extended, and the words, "Richard Wilmot," "Joseph Miller," were

simultaneously uttered.

It seems that, years before, they had been roommates and warmly attached

friends in the Academy of Canandaigua, New York, and now, after the lapse

of ten years, they met for the first time far off in Kentucky. A long

conversation followed, relative to what had occurred to each since the

bright June morning when they parted with so much regret in the old

academic halls of Canandaigua.