“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.

When Julia entered the room she found her sister extended on the floor, cold and white as a piece of marble, while the blood was gushing from her nostrils and moistening the curls of her long hair.  Julia’s first feeling was one of intense horror, or fear her sister might be dead, but a touch assured her that Fanny had only fainted.  So she lifted her up, and bearing her to the window applied the usual restoratives.  As Julia looked on the death-like face of her young sister she murmured, “Had I thought she loved him so well, never would I have done so wickedly.”

But she made no promise to repair the mischief, and stifled all the better impulses of her nature by saying, “It is too late now:  it is too late.”

At last Fanny opened her eyes.  Her first thought was for her letter, which was still tightly clenched in her hand.  Passing it to Julia she said, faintly, “Read it, sister.”

Julia took it, and pretending to read it, burst into a violent passion, abusing Dr. Lacey for his meanness, and ending by telling Fanny that she ought to consider herself fortunate in escaping from such a man.  Fanny seemed disturbed to hear evil spoken of Dr. Lacey, so Julia changed her manner, and said, “I do not wonder you feel badly, Fanny.  You and I can sympathize together now.”

Fanny looked at her sister in some surprise, but at last answered, “Oh no, you cannot know how I feel.  Mr. Wilmot loved you to the last.  Dr. Lacey is not dead, but—­”

Here Julia interrupted her by saying, “I do not mean to refer to Mr. Wilmot.  I was flattered by his attentions, but I never knew what it was to love until I saw Dr. Lacey.”

“Dr. Lacey!—­You love Dr. Lacey!” said Fanny, and again she fell back cold and motionless.  A second time Julia restored her to consciousness, but for an hour she did not speak or scarcely move.  At the end of that time, calling her sister to her, in a low, subdued tone, she said, “Tell me all, Julia.  I can bear it.  I am calm now.”