On reaching her apartment, Fanny sat down on the sofa, while a tremulous
nervousness shook her frame. She dreaded to open the letter, for a strange
forboding of evil came over her. At last the seal was broken and Fanny's
heart stood still, and a dizziness crept over her as she read. For the
reader's benefit we will look over her shoulder and read with her the
following: "MY ONCE DEAR AND STILL MUCH ADMIRED FANNY: I hardly know how to write
what I wish to tell you. If I knew exactly your opinion concerning me, I
might feel differently. As it is I ardently hope that your extreme youth
prevented my foolish, but then sincere, attentions from making any very
lasting impression on you. But why not come to the point at once. Fanny,
you must try and forget that you ever knew one so wholly unworthy of you
as I am. It gives me great pain to write it, but I am about to engage
myself to another.
"Do not condemn me unheard. There is a young lady in this city, who is
beautiful, wealthy and accomplished. Between her father's family and mine
there has long existed an intimacy which our fathers seem anxious to
strengthen by a union between myself and the young lady I have mentioned.
For a time I resisted manfully. For, ever between me and the tempting bait
came the image of a pale, bright-haired girl, whose blue eyes looked
mournfully into mine and whispered, 'Do not leave me.' But at last I
yielded, and now, Fanny, will you forgive me? It cost me more anguish to
give you up than I hope you will ever feel. Be happy, Fanny, and some time
when I am traveling through Kentucky, let me find you the cheerful,
contented wife of some one more suitable for you than I am. With kind
wishes for your happiness, I remain, "Your true friend, "GEORGE LACEY."
"P.S.--It is just possible that the young lady and myself may not become
engaged, but if we do not, after what has passed, it will be best for you
and me to try to forget each other. Give my compliments to your sister
Julia. By the way, do you know that I always admired her very much? What a
sensation she would make in the fashionable world of New Orleans. But
pshaw! What nonsense I'm writing."
Alas for Fanny! She did not need to read the letter twice, for every
syllable had burned into her soul, and she could have repeated each word
of the cruel message. This, then, was the end of her bright dream of
bliss! She did not weep, for she could not. The fountain of her tears
seemed dried up. A heavy weight had suddenly fallen on all her faculties.
The objects in the room chased each other in rapid circles, while Dr.
Lacey stood in the distance mocking her anguish. A faint feeling gathered
round her heart. She uttered a low cry and fell heavily forward.