“Miss Markland!  Fanny! do I find you here?”

The colour left the maiden’s cheeks for an instant.  Then they flushed to deep crimson.  But her lips were sealed.  Surprise took away, for a time, the power of speech.

“I turned aside,” said the intruder, “as I came up the avenue, to have a look at this charming spot, so well remembered; but dreamed not of finding you here.”

He had already approached Fanny, and was holding one of her hands tightly in his, while he gazed upon her face with a look of glowing admiration.

“Oh, Mr. Lyon!  How you have startled me!” said Fanny, as soon as she could command her voice.

“And how you tremble!  There, sit down again, Miss Markland, and calm yourself.  Had I known you were here, I should not have approached so abruptly.  But how have you been since my brief absence?  And how is your good father and mother?”

“Father is in New York,” replied Fanny.

“In New York!  I feared as much.”  And a slight shade crossed the face of Mr. Lyon, who spoke as if off of his guard.  “When did he go?”

“Yesterday.”

“Ah!  Did he receive a letter from me?”

“Yes, sir.”  Fanny’s eyes drooped under the earnest gaze that was fixed upon her.

“I hoped to have reached here as soon as my letter.  This is a little unfortunate.”  The aspect of Mr. Lyon became grave.

“When will your father return?” he inquired.

“I do not know.”

Again Mr. Lyon looked serious and thoughtful.  For some moments he remained abstracted; and Fanny experienced a slight feeling of timidity, as she looked upon his shadowed face.  Arousing himself, he said: 

“This being the case, I shall at once return South.”

“Not until to-morrow,” said Fanny.

“This very night,” answered Mr. Lyon.

“Then let us go to the Lodge at once,” and Fanny made a motion to rise.  “My mother will be gratified to see you, if it is only for a few moments.”

But Mr. Lyon placed a hand upon her arm, and said: 

“Stay, Miss Markland—­that cannot now be.  I must return South without meeting any other member of your family.  Did you receive my letter?” he added, abruptly, and with a change of tone and manner.

Fanny answered affirmatively; and his quick eye read her heart in voice and countenance.

“When I wrote, I had no thought of meeting you again so soon.  But a few hours after despatching the letter to your father, enclosing yours—­a letter on business of importance, to me, at least—­I received information that led me to wish an entire change in the programme of operations about to be adopted, through your father’s agency.  Fearing that a second letter might be delayed in the mails, I deemed it wisest to come on with the greatest speed myself.  But I find that I am a day too late.  Your father has acted promptly; and what he has done must not be undone.  Nay, I do not wish him even to know that any change has been contemplated.  Now, Miss Markland,” and his voice softened as he bent toward the girlish form at his side, “may one so recently a stranger claim your confidence?”