So days came and went, week followed week, in rapid succession, until five weeks were numbered with the past since Mr. Miller’s letter had been dispatched.  Kate had waited and watched until even her sanguine nature had ceased to hope; for there had come no tidings from the far off Crescent City, and both she and her husband had unwillingly come to the conclusion that Dr. Lacey was really false.  Kate manifested her disappointment by an increased tenderness of manner toward Fanny, whom she sincerely loved, and by a more gracious deportment toward Julia, whom she began to fear she had wronged by suspecting her of being accessory to Dr. Lacey’s conduct.

CHAPTER XIV

Fanny and Julia’s uncle arrives from India

It was now the first day of May, and as it was also Fanny’s seventeenth birthday, her school companions determined to celebrate it by a May party, of which Fanny was unanimously chosen queen.  The fete took place in a handsome grove on a hillside which overlooked the city of Frankfort.  All of Mr. Miller’s pupils were present, together with most of their parents and many of their friends.  Mrs. Miller had taken great pains that Fanny should be arrayed becomingly for the occasion, and many and flattering were the compliments paid to the youthful queen, who indeed looked bewitchingly beautiful.

Her dress was a white muslin, festooned with wild flowers, some of which were fastened here and there by a pearl or brilliant.  The gayety of the little party was at its height, and when Fanny, gracefully kneeling, received upon her head the crown, and was proclaimed “Queen of the May,” a strange voice called out in loud, musical tones, “Viva la Reine.”  The whole company instantly caught up the words, and “Long live the Queen” was echoed and re-echoed on all sides.

When the tumult had somewhat subsided the eyes of those present were turned toward the spot whence the words “Viva la Reine” had proceeded.  Leaning against one of the tall shade trees were two gentlemen, who had joined them unobserved.  The elder of the strangers was a middle-aged man, in whose piercing black eyes and dark complexion we recognize the Mr. Middleton whom we left with Dr. Lacey in New Orleans.  His companion was many years younger, and there was something in his appearance which instantly interested and attracted the notice of strangers.  There was a nobleness in the intellectual cast of his high, white forehead, round which his rich brown hair lay in thick masses, as if unwilling to part with the curl which must have been natural to it in childhood.

No sooner did Kate’s eyes fall on the young man than she darted forward with a cry of recognition and exclaimed, “Why, Frank Cameron, how came you here?”