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?'

Nothing could have been more tender than his tone. The tears came to
my eyes, and I rested my head against his shoulder with a sigh.

'I don't know,' I said. 'What is the matter with you, Philip?'

'You have sharp eyes to see that anything is the matter,' he replied,
smiling; then, in a graver tone, he added, 'I have something worrying
me--a matter of business that I cannot speak of at present to you. You
must trust me, Hilda. Can you do this, do you think, even if
appearances are against me?'

He raised my face to his as he spoke, and our eyes met. Trust him! I
felt as I met his clear, open gaze that I would trus