"It is going to weep! Nature mourns for her darling child! Hark! I hear
the step of him that cometh! Fly, fair one! fly! Stay not here to listen
to the voice of the charmer, charm he never so wisely!" cried the wild
creature, as she dashed off toward the forest.

Marian and Edith looked after her, in the utmost compassion.

"Who is the poor, dear creature, Edith, and what has reduced her to this
state?"

"She was an old playmate of my own, Marian. I never mentioned her to
you--I never could bear to do so. She was one of the victims of the war.
She was the child of Colonel Fairlie and the bride of Henry Laurie, one
of the most accomplished and promising young men in the State. In one
night their house was attacked, and Fanny saw her father and her husband
massacred, and her home burned before her face! She--fell into the hands
of the soldiers! She went mad from that night!"

"Most horrible!" ejaculated Marian.

"She was sent to one of the best Northern asylums, and the property she
inherited was placed in the hands of a trustee--old Mr. Hughes, who died
last week, you know; and now that he is dead and she is out, I don't
know what will be done, I don't understand it at all."

"Has she no friends, no relatives? She must not be allowed to wander in
this way," said the kind girl, with the tears swimming in her eyes.

"I shall always be her friend, Marian. She has no others that I know of