Tempest and Sunshine. Mary Jane Holmes

how I loved and prayed for them. My mother will weep bitterly for her son, who died so far away, but she does not love me as well as you do, does she, dearest?"

      Just then Dr. Lacey entered the room. He seemed surprised [pg 053] to see Fanny there, and to hear the words of endearment addressed to her by Mr. Wilmot, but Mr. Miller softly told him of the mistake. This seemed to satisfy him, but he anxiously noted every change of Fanny's countenance. At last Mr. Wilmot said, "If you did not write that letter, who did? Was it, could it have been your sister?"

      "Oh, no! No!" said Fanny, "I did not write it."

      "I know you did not, dearest," said he; "you would not do such a thing, but who did? I cannot think it was Fanny, who was always so gentle, so guileless."

      Poor Fanny! She felt that her beloved teacher was dying with a suspicion of her innocence, and she wept most bitterly. At last a change passed over Mr. Wilmot's face, a change which showed that the last trying moment had come. It frequently occurs with dying persons that at the last their faculties are for a moment fully restored. So it was with Mr. Wilmot. A bright smile broke over his face and looking up at Mr. Miller, he said, "I thank my Heavenly Father I can see again. Now, where is Julia? I would look on her face once more."

      "I told you," said Mr. Miller, "that you were mistaken; it is not Julia."

      "Not Julia!" said Mr. Wilmot, again becoming delirious. "Not Julia! It cannot be true." Then drawing Fanny toward him he looked earnestly in her face. Slowly the bitter truth broke over his mind, and he said, "Yes, I was mistaken! But I bless you for coming; but Julia, my too dearly loved Julia—she is not here. Oh, if I can never see her in this world, shall I see her in heaven?"

      They were the last words he ever uttered. Falling back on his pillow, he drew Fanny's face to his, and with his last breath kissed her quivering lips, and all was over. Sadly Mr. Miller closed the eyes of his departed friend, and smoothing the covering about him, left him to the care of the servants. A few hours later, Fanny entered the room with Dr. Lacey, again to look on the face of Mr. Wilmot. The sun was just rising, and its first red rays fell upon the marble features of the dead. There was on his face an expression so calm and heavenly that Fanny held her breath while looking at him, lest she should disturb his peaceful repose. At length she kissed his cold forehead, and silently left the room which contained the pale sleeper.

      In the course of a few hours she returned home, bearing the sad tidings, which was received by her mother with a burst of tears; but Julia preserved the same indifference which had [pg 054] been manifested throughout all Mr. Wilmot's illness. Hard-hearted as she was, there came a time in after years when that proud head was bowed with grief, and those dark eyes were bedimmed by tears of penitence, which could not atone for the past; for they were of no avail to bring back the dead from their silent resting place.

Chapter VI

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sunshine has two graves upon which to plant flowers

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      [pg 055]Mr. Wilmot's death occurred on Tuesday morning, and the following Thursday was appointed for his burial. It was the 1st of September, and a bright, beautiful day; but its sunlight fell on many aching hearts, for though he who lay in his low coffin, so cold and still, was a "stranger in a strange land," there were many whose tears fell like summer rain for one who had thus early passed away. He had during his lifetime been a member of the Episcopal church, and his funeral services were to take place at Ascension Church.

      The house was filled to overflowing. Mr. Middleton, Mr. Miller, Dr. Lacey and Fanny occupied the front seat, as principal mourners for the deceased. Many searching eyes were bent on the fair young girl, whose white forehead gleamed from under the folds of her veil, and whose eyelids, wet with tears, drooped heavily upon her pale cheek. Madam Rumor had been busy with her thousand tongues, and the scene at the deathbed had been told and retold in twenty different forms, until at last it had become settled that on Fanny's part there was some secret attachment, or she never would have evinced so much interest in Mr. Wilmot. She, however, was ignorant of all this, and sat there wholly unconscious of the interest she was exciting.

      Julia was not there. She had again defied her mother's commands, and resisted all Fanny's entreaties, that she would go to the funeral.

      "You ought to see Mr. Wilmot," said Fanny. "He looks so calm, so peaceful and," she added in a low voice, "so forgiving."

      "So forgiving!" quickly repeated Julia. "I wonder what he has to forgive. If I had continued to love him, 'twould not have saved his life."

      Fanny sighed and turned away from the hard-hearted girl, [pg 056] who was left alone with her thoughts during all the long hours of that day. But to do her justice, we must say, that after her mother and sister were gone, a feeling of sadness stole over her; her stony heart somewhat softened, and in the solitude of her chamber she wept for a long time; but whether for Mr. Wilmot's death, her own conduct toward him, or the circumstances which surrounded her, none can tell.

      Let us now return to Frankfort, and go back for a few moments in our story. Just as the funeral procession had left the house and was proceeding toward the church, the steamboat Diana, which plies between Cincinnati and Frankfort, appeared round a bend in the river. She was loaded with passengers, who were all on the lookout as they neared the landing place. Just at that moment the tolling bell rang out on the air. Its tones fell sadly on the ear of a tall, beautiful girl, who was impatiently pacing the deck, and looking anxiously in the direction of the city. The knell was repeated, and she murmured, "Oh, what if that should be for Richard!" The thought overpowered her, and sitting down on a seat near her she burst into tears.

      "Can I do anything for you?" said the captain, who at that moment passed her.

      "Nothing, except to land me in Frankfort as soon as possible," said the young lady, whom the reader will readily suppose was Kate Wilmot.

      "Are you in a great hurry?" asked the captain.

      "Yes, sir," returned Kate. "My brother is dangerously sick and I am anxious to get to him."

      "Where does your brother live?" asked the captain.

      "He boards with Mrs. Williams, on Elm street," answered Kate.

      "Then," said the captain, "if you will show me your baggage, I will see that it is sent there, for you probably will not wish to waste time in looking after it when we land."

      Kate thanked him for his kindness; and when they reached the shore the kind-hearted man called one of his boatmen and ordered him to show Miss Wilmot the way to Mrs. Williams' residence. As Kate approached the house she noticed the air of desertion about it, and her heart sank for fear her brother might be dead. Running hastily up the steps, she rang the bell, which was answered by a female domestic, who was too old and too infirm to attend the funeral. Kate accosted her by saying, "Does Mr. Wilmot live here?"

      The old lady replied by lifting up her hand and exclaiming, while the tears coursed their way down her cheeks, "Lord [pg 057] bless me if it isn't young marster's sister."

      "Yes, yes," said Kate impatiently, "I am his sister. But tell me, is he dead? Am I too late?"

      The woman replied, "Not too late to see him, if you're right spry. They've carried him to the church."

      "Where? What church is it?" asked Kate wildly.

      "Right yender; that ar brick house with the tall steeple."

      Kate waited for no more, but darted off in the direction of the church. Meanwhile the services were ended, and the friends of the deceased were taking their last leave of him. Mrs. Middleton and Mr. Miller stood on one side of the coffin, while Dr. Lacey and Fanny were on the other. Fanny gazed long and earnestly upon the face of her teacher, as if she would stamp his likeness with daguerrean