really was fond of music, and would lean back in his
chair and thoroughly enjoy it. I tried to make myself as pleasant to
every one as I could: I helped Mrs. Forsyth in her gardening, which was
her particular hobby; I ran errands for the girls, and made a point of
obliging them in every way possible; I practised my violin with Violet,
and was always ready for an outdoor scramble with her when Miss Graham
was not able to accompany us; and in filling up my days with these
occupations I learnt to be content and happy.

'You are a good little thing, Hilda,' Nelly said one day to me, as I was
handing her back a pair of gloves I had been mending for her. 'I
sometimes think we are very horrid to you. I wish you weren't so awfully
religious; but I will say this for you, that you practise what you
preach, and your religion seems to suit you. I am sure, though you
haven't half the fun that I have, you always look as bright and jolly as
you can be. How do you manage it?'

'I try to "dwell deep,"' I said; and Nelly laughingly rejoined as she
left me,--

'I am sure you are deeper than I am. I like to skim the surface as I go
through life; one gets the cream that way.'

It was a bright October morning. I had been picking some late roses on
the lawn close to the house, and with my hands full of those and some
lovely sprays of red and gold-coloured leaves was just entering the hall
door, when a strange voice made me turn round.

'Is Mrs. Forsyth at home?'

It was a lady who spoke, in clear, brisk tones; she was not very young,
and wore a severely plain dress: a round felt hat like a man's, with two
or three crow's feathers stuck in carelessly at the side, a thick pair of
leather gauntlets, and carried a walking stick in her hand.

I was answering in the affirmative, when suddenly down came her hand on
my shoulder.

'Are you Hilda Thorn?'

'Yes,' I said, quietly meeting a searching look from two keen dark eyes
under very thick eyebrows.

'And you are indeed, I hear, a veritable thorn in the side of my poor
sister. I am glad to have met you. Now take me to her.'

Her quick, imperative tones awed me. I had heard Nelly talk about an
aunt of theirs, a Miss Rayner, who was a strong-minded and peculiar
woman, and I rightly conjectured that this must be she.

We found Mrs. Forsyth in her own sitting-room, busy with accounts, and I
fancied she did not look well pleased at the advent of the visitor.

'Well, Helen,' she