Fanny's Illness Leads to Her Father's Repentance

From the grassy hillside and bright green plains of Kentucky the frosts of
winter were gone. By the dancing brook and in the shady nooks of the quiet
valleys, the warm spring sun had sought out and brought to life thousands
of sweet wild blossoms, which in turn had faded away, giving place to
other flowers of a brighter and gayer hue.

Each night from the upper balcony of her father's handsome dwelling Fanny
watched in vain for the coming of Dr. Lacey, whose promised return had
long been delayed by the dangerous illness of his father. Over the wooded
hills the breath of summer was floating, hot, arid and laden with disease.
Death was abroad in the land, and as each day exaggerated rumors of the
havoc made by cholera in the sultry climate of Louisiana reached Fanny,
fearful misgivings filled her mind lest Dr. Lacey, too, should fall a
victim to the plague.

For herself she had no fears, though slowly but surely through her veins
the fever flame was creeping, scorching her blood, poisoning her breath
and burning her cheek, until her father, alarmed at her altered and
languid appearance, inquired for the cause of the change. "Nothing but a
slight headache," was the reply.

Next to the cholera, Mr. Middleton most feared the typhoid fever, several
cases of which had recently occurred in the neighborhood, and fearing lest
the disease might be stealing upon his darling, he proposed calling the
physician. But this Fanny would not suffer, and persisted in saying that
she was well, until at last she lay all day upon the sofa, and Aunt Katy,
when her favorite herb teas failed of effecting their wonted cure, shook
her head, saying, "I knew 'twould be so. I always telled you we couldn't
keep her long."