When we reached the house, we found every one in the drawing-room at tea. Miss Willoughby was in high spirits. She was organizing some tableaux that the Forsyths were trying to get up, and was pressing every one into her service.

'Now, Hilda Thorn,' she said laughingly, as I entered the room, 'I am going to ask you a great favour. Don't purse up that little mouth of yours in anticipation. It is nothing sinful, upon my honour it is not.'

'You shall not torment her till she has had a cup of tea,' said Nelly good-naturedly. 'Come and sit down by me, Hilda.'

'Will you give her plenty of sugar then, please, Mrs. Forsyth?' Miss Willoughby pursued; 'I want her temper sweetened.'

'I don't think she possesses a temper,' put in Kenneth. 'I know for a fact that I often lose mine in trying to make her lose hers!'

'If she never loses it, she must have it in her possession,' said Miss Willoughby drily; and every one laughed.

'What is it you want?' I asked a few moments after, having disposed of my tea.

'Just at present we want a little soothing. There is an east wind to-day, and not being a piece of perfection like yourself, I feel on edge! I have not been treated well. I had my eye on Mr. Stanton for King Arthur, and Hugh tells me they are dining in town on the 6th, which is the date we have fixed. I suspect they have arranged it between them. Then Constance and I want to pose for the same character; she thinks she is better suited to it than I, and she likes her own way. I think the contrary, and I like mine. And the fact is that I've been told that you are a great violinist--"Music hath power to soothe the savage breast." Will you do us the favour of playing to us now? We shall feel more peaceably disposed towards each other afterwards, I know.'

I willingly complied, and played one thing after another. When I put down my violin, I saw Miss Willoughby give an approving nod towards Mrs. Forsyth, and then she said, 'Thank you--that is a great treat.

Now I feel at peace with all mankind; do you?'

'I think I generally do,' I replied.

'Well, now, what I want to ask you is this,--and I am sure you will not be so ill-natured as to refuse,--would you mind playing a little like that just behind a screen for us? You won't be seen at all, and no one will know who it is. Nelly says you have scruples about taking part in tableaux; but of course this could not be an objection.'

Miss Willoughby dropped the half-mocking tone in which she usually addressed me, and for an instant I felt I could not refuse. Nelly saw my hesitation, and took advantage of it. 'Do say "Yes," Hilda; we want a violin, and Violet does play so atrociously; there is no one about here that can do it as well as you. It will only be for about ten minutes.'

'Why do you want it?' I asked.

'I will tell you,' said Kenneth; 'we are to have some moving tableaux, illustrating certain pithy sayings. Miss Willoughby has mentioned the one we want you for,--"Music hath charms," etc. I think I am to pose as one of the villains. We are divided as to whether it is to be a duel or a cold-blooded murder; but I know my part is to transform my face from that in which diabolical hatred and fiendish rage is depicted, into a gradual state of simpering, smiling imbecility, and I think the curtain will fall upon me and my rival locked in each other's arms, shedding maudlin tears of love into our respective shirt-fronts!'

'The moral is so awfully good,' urged Nelly; 'do be obliging just this once, Hilda.'

'Of course she is going to do it,' said Miss Willoughby.

'I will give you an answer to-morrow,' I said slowly, and taking up my hat and cloak I left the room.

It was hard sometimes to keep clear of the gaiety around me, and this was one of the cases in which I much wished for advice. I felt inclined to appeal to Mr. Stanton; he had stood a little apart from the others talking to General Forsyth, but I felt sure that he had been within earshot of the whole conversation. Yet his words that afternoon came back to me. I must get my orders from my Master, and not from him. And, as so often before, I went down on my knees in my room, and with my Bible before me sought the advice I needed.

I felt, when I at length rose, that I was best out of it altogether. I knew my wish to oblige them and show them that I had no ill-feeling about it might land me into further difficulties. It would be the thin end of the wedge. And though I dreaded the scoffing remarks of Miss Willoughby, and knew she would be really put out by my refusal, my mind was quite made up, and meeting her on the stairs going down to dinner two hours later, I told her I could not do it.

She only laughed at me. 'Nonsense, child! you will think better of it; don't be in such a hurry to refuse.' Then, drawing my arm within hers, she went on in a coaxing tone as we descended the stairs together: 'I have taken a liking to you, Hilda, for I feel you have a true ring about you. I am afraid I am a dreadful tease, but I tell you honestly I admire and respect your religious views. Much better be one thing or the other--and there is no uncertain sound about you. But don't you think it a pity in the present instance if, in your mistaken zeal, you would lose the opportunity of rendering us a little service, and so commending your religion practically to us? I was talking to a gentleman the other day who said, "What I object to so much in these so-called good people is their extreme selfishness and indifference to the likes and dislikes of those with whom they live; good nature and the ordinary common little courtesies of life seem altogether lacking in their composition." This isn't much we are asking of you, and I don't think you will refuse. Five minutes only we want from you. You needn't be present at the tableaux at all; people will think it is some hired musician in the background, and you can escape to your room immediately afterwards. If you refuse, do you think it will bring credit on your religion? It's the only favour I have ever asked of you, and it is such a little kindness to do.'

It was hard, in the face of this, to adhere to my resolve. If I had not come straight from prayer, I don't believe I could have withstood her.

'I am afraid you will think me very disagreeable,' I said as gently as I could; 'but I have thought over it, and have made up my mind that it is best for me not to take part in the tableaux at all. I think with a little practice Violet will do what you require.'

Miss Willoughby's face was not a pleasant one to see when she saw I really was in earnest. She dropped my arm at once, and seeing Kenneth hovering about in the hall she went up to him, 'Take me out into the balcony; I want a change of atmosphere. Your converted people are all alike. A nasty, spiteful, ill-natured set of canting hypocrites!'

'It's war to the knife between you two now,' whispered Kenneth to me as we went in to dinner; 'and I warn you she will give you no quarter.

She is not accustomed to have her plans thwarted. You had better give in!'

I wondered why Miss Willoughby should have set her heart so upon my helping them; but that night, when I went to bed, I was enlightened.

Miss Graham tapped at my door, and asked if she might come in for a few minutes. She very often had a firelight talk with me at bedtime. I was not feeling inclined for it now, for Miss Willoughby, though purposely ignoring me in the drawing-room after dinner, had been lavish with her biting sarcasm on Christianity and some of its followers.

Mr. Stanton had instantly come forward, upon hearing some of her remarks, and in the discussion that followed she had been decidedly worsted. Mr. Stanton was not a man to be trifled with, and he told her some very plain truths. From getting excited, she finally lost her temper, and the evening had ended unpleasantly for us all. I felt I had been the innocent cause of it, and was too much perturbed in spirit to relish a long chat with Miss Graham.

She surprised me by alluding at once to the subject of my thoughts.

'Have you consented to play for them at the tableaux?'

'No,' I said a little wearily as I sat down, and drew a chair forward for her. 'I have told Miss Willoughby I cannot do it.'

'Is that your final decision? Does she know it is?'

'Yes, and she is very vexed about it.'

'Of course she is. My dear Hilda, I am glad. I think I must tell you now about it. She is a clever woman, but not a good one. Do you know that it has been a regular trap for you? Governesses are not supposed to have ears--and yesterday I was giving Violet a music lesson, when she and Mr. Kenneth and Miss Forsyth came in. They went over to the window seat, and there began talking over these tableaux. They did not lower their voices, and she made a bet with Mr. Kenneth that she would make you take part in them. He laughed at her, but she said she was in earnest, and then when he had left the room she propounded her plan to Constance. If you had agreed to play for them,--which she said she was pretty sure she would make you do,--she was going to arrange that just before the curtain fell the screen should be suddenly shifted from in front of you, and you would then be in full view of the audience. You were, in fact, to personify the girl for whom the two rivals were fighting.'

'But,' I said, quite bewildered, 'I should not have been dressed for the occasion. How could she imagine such a plan would succeed?'

'It was all to be arranged. She said your cream silk would be just the thing, and Mr. Forsyth was to tell you to wear it that night for dinner. I assure you Miss Willoughby was quite determined that she should succeed. I am very glad she has failed, for it would be a shabby trick to play any one, and I was very vexed that it should be played on you.'

I was silent. Miss Graham's words were a revelation to me, and I wondered what I had done to cause Miss Willoughby to act so. And I understood her anger at having had her plans so frustrated. How thankful I was that I had not yielded to her entreaties! After a pause, Miss Graham said, 'You must have a wonderful grip of unseen things, Hilda, to live your life here so cheerily and brightly, when you have such constant difficulties and disagreeables arising between you and the girls.'

I looked up at her. 'It is a happy life, Miss Graham, and no circumstances can ever make it otherwise.'

She leant forward in the firelight, and, taking one of my hands in hers, said rather brokenly, with tears glistening in her eyes,--

'I have wanted to tell you--I must to-night; I think it will cheer you to know that I have found what you have. Do you remember those few words you said to me in the wood soon after you first came? I could never forget them. And I was troubled for long afterwards. But I see it all so differently now; salvation is not to be earned, as you said to me, but to be received. And I think when one receives salvation, one receives the Giver with it. I know I have found it so--it does indeed make life different.'

'Oh, Miss Graham, I am so glad!' I said, and, unable to check myself, I burst into tears. I think I was overwrought, and this coming on the top of my other trouble, proved too much for me.

'How long have you--have you known this?' I asked, and in the fulness of my heart I leant over and kissed her.

'I don't know,' she said with a smile; 'I have been seeking for it on my knees and with my Bible night after night. Sometimes I fancied I had the assurance of it, and then it seemed to leave me. I think when you were at Miss Rayner's I seemed to doubt less and trust more. And now I don't think I have a doubt at all. I am staking my assurance on verses like John vi. 37. It was seeing you live your life here that showed me you must have the real thing, and made me long to have it too.'

She left me soon after, and I sat on by my fire with silent thanks in my heart for this news. God had indeed been good to me, and I felt especially grateful that I had been sent such comfort and cheer after a rather trying evening.

CHAPTER XIII

TAKEN HOME

'But I like to think of him passing, Like a clear early star, Into that quiet region . . .

I like to think of his little feet Climbing the heavenly stair, Of his eyes in their wondering meekness Waking to glory there.'

The next morning I was out in the garden picking a few late chrysanthemums, when Mr. Stanton passed by me. He stopped for a moment.