Here Roddy broke in. 'What's Jim doing, teacher? Mother says singin' hymns. Won't he never get time to write a letter to me? I asked him to.'

'He is doing just what Jesus wants him to, Roddy. You mustn't expect a letter, but you will see him again one day, and that will be better than a letter.'

So the time slipped on, and writing so constantly to Philip and hearing from him in return, was my greatest consolation during his absence. Twice he managed to come down for a couple of days, which were much enjoyed by us both; and then Easter drew near, and with it all the bustle attending the preparations for Constance's wedding. After it was over we were to go down to Cobham Hall, which was Philip's place, and stay there for three or four weeks, and Nelly as well as myself was greatly looking forward to it.

Two days before the wedding we were gathered, a large and merry party, in the drawing-room after dinner. Philip had come down that afternoon, but in spite of his pleasure at being with us again, I fancied he was ill at ease, and wondered at the cause.

'Now, Goody Two-Shoes,' Kenneth cried, when music was going on, 'give us something extra nice from your fiddle. Get into a dream over it, and make us all as dreamy as yourself.'

I took my violin up, and standing in my favourite position against one of the French windows I began to play. Everything that evening is stamped vividly upon my memory. I can see now the yellow jasmine outside the windows fluttering to and fro in the breeze, the lilacs and laburnums on the lawn sending some of their sweet fragrance through one of the half-opened doors, and the last rays of the setting sun gilding the tops of the distant hills. As I turned my eyes inwards, I saw a bright fire, General Forsyth on one side reading the evening paper, Mrs. Forsyth on the other, busy with her fancy work and little table before her. At the piano, lounging about in different attitudes, were Nelly and several girl cousins, Kenneth and two other gentlemen in the background, whilst at the farther window stood Constance with Mr. Stroud. Philip was bending over a book with Hugh at a small table near, but when I began to play he threw himself into an easy chair, and resting his head upon his hand, prepared himself to listen. I noted an abstracted, moody look in his eyes, and it was in vain that he tried to hide it. I began to play one of Beethoven's sonatas, but drifted on from that to my own fancies, and glancing out into the dusky twilight, seemed to feel, rather than see, great banks of heavy, gloomy clouds roll up and envelop us in their darkness. A strange depression seemed to take possession of me, a heavy weight to settle down upon my spirits. I played on dreamily, until suddenly I was stopped by a cry from Constance, 'Do for pity's sake stop that wail, Hilda; one would think you were playing our funeral dirge!'

Her sharp tone so startled me that my violin fell to the ground with a crash. I gave a shiver, and Kenneth said, 'Has an evil spirit taken possession of you, Goody? You have put us all into the blues by the uncanny cries and moans that have proceeded from your fiddle! What is the matter with you?'

I could not answer him, Philip was picking up and replacing my violin in its case, after which he laid his hand on my arm. 'Come into the library with me.'

I followed him; he stirred up the fire, which was nearly out, and then drew me to him.

'What is the matter, childie?'