A physician was immediately called and by the means of powerful remedies the progress of the disease was checked, so that Fanny was seriously ill for only a week.  She was delirious a great part of the time, but Julia was delighted to find out that not one word of Dr. Lacey ever passed her lips.  At the commencement of her illness her father and mother were sent for.  The old man came quickly, for Fanny was his idol, and if she should die, he would be bereaved indeed.  With untiring love he watched by her bedside until the crisis was passed.  He would fan her fevered brow, moisten her parched lips, chafe her hot, burning hands, smooth her tumbled pillow, and when at last he succeeded in soothing her into a troubled slumber, he would sit by her and gaze on her wan face with an earnestness which seemed to say that she was his all of earth, his more than all of heaven.  Julia too was all attention.  Nothing tired her, and with unwearied patience she came and went at her father’s bidding, doing a thousand little offices pertaining to a sick chamber.  For once her father’s manner softened toward her and the tones of his voice were gentle and his words kind while speaking to his first born.  Could he have known what part she had in causing the illness of his “darling Sunshine,” all Frankfort would have shaken with the heavy artillery of oaths and execrations, which would have been disgorged from his huge lungs, like the eruption of some long pent-up volcano!  But he did not suspect the truth, and in speaking of Fanny’s illness, he said, “It is studyin’ so close that ailed her.  As soon as ever she can bar to be moved, we will carry her home, and Aunt Katy’ll nuss her up quicker.”

Accordingly, as soon as the physician pronounced it safe to move her, she was taken home, and by her mother’s assiduous care, and Aunt Katy’s skilful nursing, her physical health was soon much improved.  But no medicine could reach the plague spot which preyed upon her heart and cast a dark shadow over every feeling of pleasure.  As soon as her health was fully restored, she asked permission to return to school.  At first Mr. Middleton refused, but not long did he ever withstand any request which “Sunshine” made.  So at last he consented, on condition that she would give up the study of Latin, and promise not to apply herself too closely to anything.  To this Fanny readily agreed, and in a few days she was in Frankfort, occupying her accustomed seat at Mrs. Crane’s and bending over her task in the old schoolroom, which seemed suddenly illuminated by her presence.

The schoolgirls welcomed back their young companion with many demonstrations of joy, for they said, “the schoolroom seemed dark and lonely when she was absent.”  Dear little Fanny!  There was love enough left for her in the hearts of all who knew her, but it did not satisfy.  There was still an aching void, which one love alone could fill, and that love she thought was lost to her forever.  She was mistaken.