be poor too: it will not hurt me to work;
nothing will hurt me after the life I have been leading these three
years.' And the old troubled look came back to Gladys's face. Lady Betty
joined us, and our talk ceased, and soon afterwards we went up into the
turret-room to prepare for dinner.

After dinner Lady Betty proposed that we should go down the road a little
to hear the nightingales; but Mr. Hamilton informed her with a smile that
he had a nightingale on the premises, and, turning to me, he asked me if
I were in the mood to give them all pleasure, and if I would sing to them
until they told me to stop.

I was rather dubious on this latter point, for how could I know, I asked
him, laughing, that they might not keep me singing until midnight?

'You ought to have more faith in our humanity,' he returned, with much
solemnity, as he opened the piano. Gladys crept into her old seat by me,
but Mr. Hamilton placed himself in an easy-chair at some little distance.
As the room grew dusk, and the moonlight threw strange silvery gleams
here and there, I could see him leaning back with his arms crossed under
his head, and wondered if he were asleep, he was so still and motionless.

How I thanked God in my heart for that gift of song, a more precious gift
to me than even beauty would have been! As usual, I forgot everything,
myself, Gladys, Mr. Hamilton; I seemed to sing with the joyousness of a
bird that is only conscious of life and freedom and sunshine.

I would sing no melancholy songs that night,--no love-sick adieux, no
effusions of lachrymose sentimentality,--only sweet old Scotch and
English ballads, favourites of Charlie's; then grander melodies, 'Let the
bright seraphim,' and 'Waft her, angels, through the air.' As I finished
the last I was conscious that Mr. Hamilton was standing beside me; the
next moment he laid his hand on mine.

'That will do. You must not tire yourself: even the nightingales must
leave off singing sometimes; thank you so much. No! that sounds cold and
conventional. I will not thank you. You were very happy singing, were you
not?'

I could not see his face, but he was so close,--so close to me in the
moonlight, and there was something in his voice that brought the old
shyness back.

I was trying to answer, when we heard the front door open and some one
speaking to Parker. Was that Miss Darrell's voice? Mr. Hamilton heard it,
for he moved away, and Gladys gave a half-stifled exclamation as