“Not so, my child.  Believe me, that nothing but duty would have ever driven me to this avowal.  You are now at woman’s legal age.  You have a guardian, in whose hands your father, at his death, left, for your benefit, some property; and this person now desires to settle the estate, and transfer to you what remains.”

Bewildered, like one awakening from a dream, Fanny listened to this strange announcement.  And it was some time before she really comprehended her true position.

“Not your child—­a guardian—­property!—­What does it all mean?  Am I really awake, mother?”

“Yes, dear, you are awake.  It is no dream, believe me,” was the tender reply of Mrs. Claire.  “But, remember, that all this does not diminish our love for you—­does not remove you in the least from our affections.  You are still our child, bound to us by a thousand intertwining chords.”

But little more passed between them at this interview.  Fanny asked for no more particulars, and Mrs. Claire did not think it necessary to give any further information.  Fanny soon retired to her own chamber, there to commune with her thoughts, and to seek, in tears, relief to her oppressed feelings.

The meeting of Claire with Fanny, on his return home, was affecting.  She met him with a quivering lip and moistened eyes, and, as she laid her cheek against his breast, murmured in a sad, yet deeply affectionate voice—­

“My father!”

“My own dear child!” quickly replied Claire, with emotion.

And then both stood for some time silent.  Leading her to a seat, Claire said tenderly—­

“I have always loved you truly, and now you are dearer to me than ever.”

“My more than father,” was her simple response.

“My own dear child!” said Mr. Claire, kissing her fondly.  “We have ever blessed the day on which you came to us from God.”

Words would only have mocked their feelings, and so but few words passed between them, yet how full of thoughts crowding upon thoughts were their minds—­how over-excited their hearts with new emotions of love.

After the younger members of the family had retired on that evening, Mr. and Mrs. Claire and Fanny were alone together.  All three were in a calmer state of mind.  Fanny listened with deep attention, her hand shading her countenance so as to conceal its varying expression, to a brief history of her parentage.  Of things subsequent to the time of her entrance into her present home, but little was said.  There was an instinctive delicacy on the part of Claire and his wife, now that Fanny was about coming into the possession of property, which kept back all allusion to the sacrifices they had made, and the pain they had suffered on her account, in their contentions with her guardian.  In fact, this matter of property produced with them a feeling of embarrassment.  They had no mercenary thoughts in regard to it—­had no wish to profit by their intimate and peculiar relation.