For a little while the silence continued, and then Mr.Willet said, in a tone so changed that its echo in the maiden's heart made every pulse beat quicker,-- "Fanny, there is one question that I have long desired to ask." She lifted her eyes to his face timidly, and looked steadily at him for a few moments; then, as they fell to the ground, she replied-- "You can ask no question that it will not give me pleasure to answer." "But this, I fear, will give you pain," said he.
"Pain, you have taught me, is often a salutary discipline." "True, and may it be so in the present instance.

It is not unknown to me that Mr.Lyon once held a place in your regard--I will go farther, and say in your affections." Fanny started, and moved a step from him; but he continued-- "The question I wish to ask is, does there yet remain in your heart a single point that gives back a reflection of his image?
In plainer words, is he any thing to you ?" "No, nothing!" was the emphatic, almost indignant, answer.
"It is said," resumed Mr.Willet, "that you once loved him." "He came to me," replied Fanny, "a young, artless, trusting girl, as an angel of light.

Nay, I was only a child, whose ears were unused to warmer words than fell from the loving lips of parents.

Suddenly, he opened before me a world of enchantment.

My whole being was on fire with a delicious passion.