to think so, and it was he who
had inoculated her with this one. She laid her small trap for her old
friend and school-fellow with an admirable nonchalance and indifference
of aspect, and looked at Rachel with an eye from which all appearance of
speculation was carefully abstracted.

"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