Mrs. Middleton sighed and said, "It is as I feared; on you, Julia, rests

in a measure the cause of his death."

"Better call me a murderer at once. But I'll not stay for more abuse,"

said Julia, as she left the room.

When she was gone Mrs. Middleton buried her face in her hands, and sent

forth sob after sob from her crushed heart--crushed by the sinfulness and

mocking disobedience of her first born. While she was still weeping, Fanny

stole softly 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."




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