and was hovering near them. Virginia, nervous and hysterical, began to
cry. Fanny, endeavoring to appear brave, but inwardly as nervous, took
the girl in her arms and spoke consolingly and sensibly to her as
became an elder sister.

But Virginia obstinately refused to be comforted. Burying her face on
her sister's shoulder, she gave free vent to the storm of tears which
had been gathering in her girlish bosom all day. Devoted to her father
even more than to her mother, the mere thought of losing him was
intolerable. He was her comrade, her adviser, her mentor. All she had
undertaken or was about to undertake was to please him. If she had
excelled in her studies and advanced more rapidly than other girls in
her class, he was the cause. She needed his praise, his censure to
spur her on in her work. With him gone, it seemed to her that her own
life, too, had come to an end, not realizing, in her youthful
inexperience, that it had not yet commenced.

She was a singularly attractive girl and gave every promise of
developing into a remarkably handsome woman. Slight and somewhat
delicate in build, she was of brunette type, with a face oval in
shape, small features and large, lustrous eyes shaded by unusually
long lashes. The nose was aristocratic, and when she spoke her mouth,
beautifully curved, revealed perfect teeth. Her hands were white and
shapely, and the mass of dark, silky hair which fell luxuriantly over
her shoulders was the despair of every other girl of her acquaintance.

But it was not the possession of these mere externals that made people
look twice at Virginia Blaine. If she had had only beauty there would
have been nothing to particularly distinguish her from the many
millions of girls to whom Nature has been kind. Beauty _per se_