This was too strong a bond of sympathy not to draw even strangers closely together, and when, after a visit of considerable length, he expressed his intention of taking whatever accommodation the little village inn could afford, Mrs. Beaumont begged him to renew his visit—and it was at last settled that he should take an early breakfast with them.
It was late, very late, that night before Fanny closed her eyes, her head was full of a project that had suggested itself, but which cost her many a bitter plan to even attempt executing. She revolved every possible, we might say, impossible, chance of alleviating their situation, and she could find but one, and that was to go out as governess. It was a dreary prospect, for it must separate her from a mother and sister whom she loved, as we love those to whom we are every thing in the world.
How would Mrs. Beaumont bear up when separated from the daughter who was her resource and support in every-thing? How would
