One glance at the superscription assured her that it was from Dr. Lacey.  A bright, beautiful flush suffused Fanny’s face, which became irradiated with sudden joy.  Asking Mr. Stanton to excuse her, she went to her rooms, so as to be alone when she perused the precious document.  After she was gone, Julia spoke of Dr. Lacey and asked Stanton if he had ever heard from him.  Stanton replied, “While Dr. Lacey was in college he spent a part of his vacations at my father’s; but I almost always chanced to be absent at school, and consequently we are not much acquainted.  He did write to me a few times while I was in college, but our correspondence gradually ceased and I have not heard from him in a long time.  I hope he will return to Frankfort, for I should like to renew our acquaintance.”

This answer gave Julia great relief; she had feared Stanton might write to Dr. Lacey, and that by some means her scheme might be ruined.  But all was safe, and in a few moments she arose to go to her room and witness the result of the letter.  Let us go before her and see the result for ourselves.

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,

“GeorgeLacey.”