approached the couch on tip-toe, where Mrs. Beaumont was extended in the worn-out sleep of exhaustion. Knowing her mother's habits, she was surprised to find her without an attendant, but, fearing to disturb her, she sat down quietly, with Edith on her knee, and gave way to a subdued, but agonizing, burst of tears. Suddenly the door of the apartment opened, and in rushed the companion of her journey, too agitated to have the least self-control. "Oh, Miss," exclaimed she sobbing hysterically, "this is too dreadful, there is an execution in the house." The noise roused Mrs. Beaumont, who started up from her slumber, she looked wildly around, and almost shrieked, "Can I not be quiet one moment?"
"Mother, dearest Mother," whispered Fanny, springing forward, and, in another instant, she was clapsed in her Mother's arms, whose violent weeping at last exhausted itself: and she remained, her head resting on her daughter's shoulder, in a state of complete stupefaction. It was night before Fanny could steal away, she could
