Poor little Fanny! How deceived she was! After a time Mrs. Miller said,
"Fanny, Mr. Miller seems very anxious about your altered and languid
appearance. May I not tell him the truth? He will sympathize with you as
truly as I do; for he feels for you almost the affection of a brother."
At first Fanny objected. "I know," said she, "that Mr. Miller would only
think me a weak, silly girl." Mrs. Miller, however, finally gained
permission to tell everything to her husband. "I know, though," persisted
Fanny, "that he will laugh at me. You say he likes me; I know he did once;
but since the time when he visited my father's, more than a year ago, he
has not treated me with the same confidence he did before. I never knew
the reason, unless it was that foolish, romping mistake which I made one
afternoon by riding into the schoolhouse!"
With many tears and some laughing--for the remembrance of the exploit
always excited her mirth--Fanny told a part of what we already know
concerning Mr. Miller's visit at her father's the winter previous. She
related the adventure of the sled ride, and said that the morning after
she noticed a change in Mr. Miller's manner toward her. The unsuspecting
girl little thought what was the true reason of that change.
While she was yet speaking, Mr. Miller entered the room. On seeing Fanny
there, and weeping, he said: "What, Sunshine in tears? That is hardly the
remedy I would prescribe for headache. But come, Fanny, tell me what is
the matter."
"Oh, I cannot, I cannot!" said Fanny, and again she buried her face in
Kate's lap.
Mr. Miller looked inquiringly at his wife, who had not yet ceased laughing
at Fanny's ludicrous description of her sled ride; but overcoming her
merriment, she at length found voice to say, "Fanny is crying because she
thinks you do not like her as well as you used to."
Kate had never dreamed that her husband had once felt more than a
brother's love for the weeping girl before her, and she did not know what
pain her words inflicted on his noble heart. Neither did she think there
was the least ground for Fanny's supposition, and she desired her husband
to say so.
"I cannot say so and tell the truth," said Mr. Miller, "but I can assure
you that Bill Jeffrey's sled had nothing to do with it."
"What was it then?" asked Kate and Fanny, both in the same breath.