But, when she tried to open the chamber door, she found it
locked within.
"Fanny! Fanny, child!" She rattled at the lock, as she thus called
the name of her niece.
But no sound came from within.
"Fanny! Fanny!"
The sound of feet was on the floor.
"Fanny!"
"What is wanted, aunt?" said a low, husky voice, close to the door
within. It did not seem like the voice of Fanny.
"I wish to see you for a few moments. Let me in."
"Not now, Aunt Grace. I want to be alone," was answered, in the same
altered voice.
"Mercy on us!" sighed Aunt Grace, as she turned, disappointed and
troubled, from the door of her niece's chamber. "What is coming over
the house? and what ails the child? That dreadful Mr. Lyon is at the
bottom of all this. Oh! I wish the ship that brought him over had
sunk in the middle of the ocean. I knew he would bring trouble, the
moment my eyes rested upon him; and it is here quicker than I
expected."
Fanny, oh entering her room, had fallen, half-fainting, across her
bed. It required a strong effort to arouse herself and sufficiently
command her voice to answer the call of her aunt and refuse to admit
her.
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