Edith, still leading the little girl, advanced to Marian's side, where
the latter stood at the yard gate.

"I heard a scream, Marian, dear--what was it?"

Marian pointed to the old elm tree outside the cottage fence, under the
shade of which stood the poor stroller, pressing her side, and panting
for breath.

"Edith, do you see that young woman? She it was."

"Good heaven!" exclaimed Edith, turning a shade paler, and beginning,
with trembling fingers, to unfasten the gate.

"Why, do you know her, Edith?"

"Yes! yes! My soul, it is Fanny Laurie! I thought she was in some asylum
at the North!" said Edith, passing the gate, and going up to the
wanderer. "Fanny! Fanny! Dearest Fanny!" she said, taking her thin hand,
and looking in her crazed eyes and lastly, putting both arms around her
neck and kissing her.

"Do you kiss me?" asked the poor creature, in amazement.

"Yes, dear Fanny! Don't you know me?"

"Yes, yes, you are--I know you--you are--let's see, now--"

"Edith Lance, you know--your old playmate!"