Then she arose and moved slowly across the room.

Her hand was on the door, and the sound of the latch broke the silence of the room.

At this instant the unhappy girl started up, and cried, in tones of anguish-- "Oh, my mother! my mother! come back!" Mrs.Markland returned slowly, and with the air of one who hesitated.

Fanny leaned forward against her, and wept freely.
"It is not yet too late, my child, to get back the peace of mind which this concealment has destroyed.

Mr.Lyon has written to you ?" "Yes, mother." "May I see his letter ?" There was no answer.
"Still not willing to trust your best friend," said Mrs.Markland.
"_Can_ I trust you ?" said Fanny, raising herself up suddenly, and gazing steadily into her mother's face.