"A daughter's footsteps must be moving along dangerous ways, if she fears to let her mother know the paths she is treading.

Oh, mother!" and she clasped her hands almost wildly against her bosom.

"My good, wise, loving mother!--how could I let a stranger come in between us, and tempt my heart from its truth to you for a moment! Yes, yes, you must know all, and this very hour." Acting from this better state of mind, Fanny unlocked her door, and was passing along one of the passages in the direction of her mother's room, when she met Aunt Grace.
"Oh! child! child! what is the matter with you ?" exclaimed the aunt, catching hold of her, and looking intently into her pale face.
"Come, now, tell me all about it--that's a dear, good girl." "Tell you about what, Aunt Grace ?" said Fanny, with as much firmness as she could assume, trying, as she spoke, to disengage herself from the firm grasp with which she was held.
"About all this matter that troubles you.

Why, dear me! you look just as if you'd come out of a spell of sickness.

What is it, dear?
Now do tell your aunty, who loves you just as well as if you were her own child.