The blacks now crowded round, delighted to welcome home their young mistress, who had a kind word and some little gift for each.  Particularly were Aunt Katy and Aunt Judy pleased with the present of a tasty lace cap, whose value was greatly increased from the fact that they were bought in New York City.  In these simple creatures’ estimation, New York and Frankfort were the largest places in the world.  “I s’pose,” said Aunt Katy, “that this New York is mighty nigh three times as large as Frankfort.”

“Three times as large!” repeated Fanny.  “Why, yes, Katy, forty times as large.”

From that time Aunt Katy looked upon Fanny as one not long for this world.  “’Tain’t in natur,” said she, “that she should stay long.  Allus was peart like and forrud, and now has been ridin’ in the railroad all over the airth, and hain’t got lost nuther, besides a-sailin’ along in the steam engine over the salt water.”

It was indeed marvelous how much Fanny had seen, and when she came to tell the wonder-stricken negroes of the cataract of Niagara, their amazement knew no bounds.  Our friend Bobaway did not fail to ease himself by a round of somersaults, his usual manner of expressing surprise or pleasure.  At the same time he whispered to Lucy that “He’s mistaken if Miss Fanny wan’t tellin’ ’em a stretcher this time,” for which declaration Lucy rewarded him with a smart box on the ear, saying, “Is you no better manners than to ‘cuse white folks of lyin’?  Miss Fanny never’d got as well as she is if she’s picked up a mess of lies to tell us.”

Fanny’s health was indeed much improved, and for a day or two after her return home, she bounded about the house and grounds as lightly and merrily as she had done in childhood.  Mr. Middleton noticed the change and was delighted.  “I b’lieve she’s forgettin’ that paltry doctor,” said he, but he was wrong.

The third day after her return she was sitting with her parents, relating to them an account of her journey, when Ike entered the room.  He had been sent to the post office and now came up to Fanny, saying, “Here, I done got this air,” at the same time handing her a letter, which she instantly saw was from her sister.  Eagerly taking it, she said, “A letter from Julia.  I am delighted.  It is a long time since I have heard from her.”  Then quickly breaking the seal, she commenced reading it.

Gradually as she read there stole over her face a strange expression.  It was a look of despair—­of hope utterly crushed, but she finished the letter and then mechanically passing it to her father, she said, “Read it; it concerns us all,” and then rising she went to her room, leaving her father to read and swear over Julia’s letter at his leisure.  That he did so no one will doubt when they learn its contents.