“He gave up playing?” Rachel asked, with a tone of surprise.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Sennacherib, with a stolid-seeming nod. “He give it up clean. Why, now I come to think on it, I don't believe he iver touched the music—” She paused in some confusion, and to cover this feigned to consider. “Let me see. He give up the music just about the time as you went away to Barfield.”
The old maid's lips twitched, her cheeks went pale, and a look of absolute terror rose to her eyes.
“I was always under the impression that nothing could have induced him to give up his music. As I remember him he was peculiarly devoted to it.”
She did her best to speak indifferently, but her voice shook in spite of her.
“He give it up just about the time as you went away,” repeated Mrs. Sennacherib. “I've heard our Sennacherib and his brother 'Saiah say over and over again as since that time he niver so much as opened a piece of music.”
The little old maid arose with both hands on her heart, tight-clasped there. Her eyes were wild and she panted as if for breath.
“Miss Blythe!” cried the other, alarmed by her aspect—“Rachel! What's the matter? Why, my dear, you're ill! A glass o' wine; me own mekin', my dear. Theer's no better elderberry i' the parish. Tek a drop, now do; it'll do you good, I'm sure.”
“No, thank you,” said Rachel, waving the proffered glass aside and sinking back into her chair. “It passes very soon. It is quite gone. I thank you. Pray take no notice of my ailments, Mrs. Eld. I am sorry, to have discommoded you, even for a moment.”
She was her prim and mincing self again, though there was still a tremor in her voice, and the exalted look in her young eyes was more marked than common. After a little time she recovered herself completely, and Mrs. Sennacherib entertained her for an hour with mournful histories of death and burial. The good woman had a rare nose for an invalid and a passion for nursing. Such of her old school-fellows as had died since Rachel's departure had mostly been nursed out of life under the care of Mrs. Sennacherib, and she was intimate with the symptoms of all of them, from the earliest to the latest. There was but little need for Rachel to talk at all when once her hostess had entered upon this absorbing topic, and when the old maid arose to go she had altogether recovered from the effect of whatever emotion had assailed her.