Tempest and Sunshine

She was two years younger than Julia and entirely different from her, both

in looks and disposition. Her face was very pale and her bright golden

hair fell in soft curls around her neck and shoulders, giving her

something the appearance of a fairy. Her eyes were very large and very

dark blue, and ever mirrored forth the feelings of her soul.

By the servants Julia was feared and dreaded; but Fanny was a favorite

with all. Not a man, woman or child on the plantation but was ready to do

anything for "darling Miss Fanny." And they thought, too, every one must

love her as well as they did, for they said "she showed by her face that

she was an angel." This was the opinion of the blacks, and it was also the

partially formed opinion of Mr. Wilmot before he finished his supper; and

yet he could not help thinking there was something wondrously attractive

in the glance of Julia's large, dark eyes.

After supper he tried to engage the girls in conversation in order to

ascertain which had the better mind. He found Fanny most ready to

converse. She had forgotten her resolution not to talk, and before the

evening was half spent seemed perfectly well acquainted with him. She had

discovered that his name was Richard, that he had a sister Kate, who

called him Dick, that he was as yet possessor of his own heart, but was in

danger of losing it! The compliment Fanny very generously gave to her

sister Julia, because she observed that Mr. Wilmot's eyes were often

directed toward the corner where the dark beauty sat, silent and

immovable.

Julia had taken but little part in the conversation and Mr. Wilmot's

efforts to "draw her out" had proved ineffectual. She felt piqued that

Fanny should engross so much attention and resolved on revenge; so she

determined to show Mr. Wilmot that she could talk but not upon such silly

subjects as pleased Fanny. Accordingly, when books were mentioned, she

seemed suddenly aroused into life. She was really very intelligent and a

very good scholar. She had a great taste for reading, and what books she

could not prevail on her father to buy, she would borrow, so she had a

tolerably good knowledge of all the standard works. Mr. Wilmot was

surprised and pleased to find her so well informed and in the spirited

conversation which followed poor Fanny was cast entirely into the

background.

Fanny, however, attributed it to her sister's superior knowledge of Latin,

and inwardly "thanked her stars" that she knew nothing of that language

further than the verb Amo, to love. The practical part of that verb she

understood, even if she did not its conjugation. She sat quietly listening

to Mr. Wilmot and her sister, but her cogitations were far different from

what Julia's had been.