"Didymus was a _man_ again! He dared to look himself in the face! He stood up straight, and, clapping his hand on his waistband, exclaimed--'Daisy, _this_ is living, old boy!' Julius Cæsar! what ails the man, as he turns his horrified gaze towards the bed!
"'There--there! _that'll do!_' said Mrs. Daisy. 'Don't make a donkey of yourself, Didymus, because _that_ is unnecessary! I was only in a _faint_, my dear! A FEINT--ha! ha! I think I understand you _now_, from Genesis to Revelations. That _black_ coat's a _good fit_;--very _becoming_, too! _Maria_--_Fitz_--B-U-M-B-L-E-E!! There, that'll DO, Didymus. _Sorry to disappoint you_, but I'm just as good as _new_!'"
Under this title appeared in the columns of the True Flag, one of Fanny's most effective sketches. Thus ran the tale:--
"'Good-bye, dearest mother,' said Emma, as she pressed her lips to her forehead. 'Let me bring your foot-stool and your spectacles before I go. We shall have a lovely drive, and I'll not stay after nightfall.'
"As she listened to the sound of the retreating wheels, Mrs. Leland said to herself, 'I'm selfish to be unwilling to part with Emma, but she is so good and so beautiful. Her presence is like a ray of sunshine; my room seems so dark and cheerless when she leaves me; and yet it will not be long that I can watch over her; and when these dim eyes are closing, it will be a comfort to know that she has a protector and a husband.'
"Mrs. Leland was a widow--that name always suggestive of desolation, want and sorrow. Her husband, however, had left herself and Emma enough to keep them from suffering, and the latter had made her musical talents available in driving poverty from the door.
"About a year before the date of my story, Emma had met with Lionel. Of prepossessing exterior and polished manners, the young merchant had made himself a welcome guest at the quiet fireside of the widow. Thoughtful and attentive to Mrs. Leland, he had already yielded her the devotion of a son. She was alone most of the day, but when Emma returned to her at night, with her tasks completed, and they were seated around their little table, and Emma herself prepared the nice cup of tea that was to refresh her invalid mother, and evening came, and with it Lionel, with his bright, handsome face, and winning smile and soft low tones; how quickly the hours fled away! And now she was soon to be his bride. Their cottage home in the outskirts of the city was already chosen, and thither they had gone to make arrangements for their removal. And who so happy as the lovers, that long, bright, summer afternoon? The little cottage rooms were carefully inspected; the pretty rosebush was trained anew over the low door-way, and the gardener had especial orders to take care of the nice flowerbeds and gravel walks. Amid the last sweet carol of the birds, when the flowers, heavy with the falling dew, were drowsily nodding their heads, and the first bright star of evening was timidly stealing forth; in the dim, fragrant twilight, again and again they exchanged new vows of love.