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?"
But before he answers Kate's question, we will introduce him to our
readers. Frank Cameron was a cousin of Kate Wilmot. His father, who was a
lawyer by profession, had amassed a large fortune, on the interest of
which he was now living in elegant style in the city of New York. Frank,
who was the eldest child, had chosen the profession of his father,
contrary to the wishes of his proud lady mother, who looked upon all
professions as too plebeian to suit her ideas of gentility. This
aristocratic lady had forgotten the time when, with blue cotton umbrella
and thick India rubbers, she had plodded through the mud and water of the
streets in Albany, giving music lessons for her own and widowed mother's
maintenance. One of her pupils was Kate Wilmot's mother, Lucy Cameron.
While giving lessons to her she first met Lucy's brother, Arthur Cameron,
who afterward became her husband. He was attracted by her extreme beauty
and his admiration was increased on learning her praiseworthy efforts to
maintain herself and mother. They were married, and with increasing years
came increasing wealth, until at length Mr. Cameron was a millionaire and
retired from business.