explain a little, that you may act understandingly. When I went
South, your father very kindly consented to transact certain
business left unfinished by me in New York. Letters received on my
arrival at Savannah, advised me of the state of the business, and I
wrote to your father, in what way to arrange it for me; by the next
mail other letters came, showing me different aspect of affairs and
rendering a change of plan very desirable. It was to explain this
fully to your father, that I came on. But as it is too late, I do
not wish him even to know, for the present, that a change was
contemplated. I fear it might lessen, for a time, his confidence in
my judgment--something I do not fear when he knows me better. Your
since, for the present, my dear Miss Markland, will nothing affect
your father, who has little or no personal interest in the matter,
but may serve me materially. Say, then, that, until you hear from me
again, on the subject, you will keep your own counsel."

"You say that my father has no interest in the business, to which
you refer?" remarked Fanny. Her mind was bewildered.

"None whatever. He is only, out of a generous good-will, trying to
serve the son of an old business friend," replied Mr. Lyon,
confidently. "Say, then, Fanny,"--his voice was insinuating, and
there was something of the serpent's fascination in his eyes--"that
you will, for my sake, remain, for the present, silent on the
subject of this return from the South."

As he spoke, he raised one of her hands to his lips, and kissed it.
Still more bewildered--nay, charmed--Fanny did not make even a faint
struggle to withdraw her hand. In the next moment, his hot lips had
touched her pure forehead--and in the next moment, "Farewell!" rung