well, you have knocked down one of my castles in the air, but I might have expected it! I am sure I wish you every happiness, child.' A quick sigh followed her words, and then she called out brightly to us as she got into her trap,--

'Come over and dine with me both of you one night; if not now, when next you come down, Mr. Stanton. I suppose you will be continually hovering about this neighbourhood now!'

The last day of Philip's visit soon came. I drove down to the station to see him off, but I dreaded the parting.

'You must write to me often, and tell me all about yourself,' he said, trying to speak cheerfully; 'and when Easter comes I have a plan in my head. I shall get a cousin of mine to come down with her husband to Cobham Hall, and then she will help me entertain my visitors. I shall invite all of you down, for I want you to see your future home, childie. Meanwhile, I shall doubtless be able to run down here for a day or two and see you. Mrs. Forsyth has kindly asked me to do so whenever I can.'

'Yes,' I said; 'the future looks very bright to me, almost too bright sometimes, I think. Oh, how good God has been!'

Then after a moment's silence I said, 'I shall miss you so, Philip. It will seem like a dream.'

'You will "dwell deep,"' he said, smiling as he quoted my favourite verse. 'We are not solely dependent on each other's presence for happiness, are we? We shall be able to strengthen each other's hands by prayer.'

He went; and I think others besides me missed him. His presence made itself felt wherever it was. Hugh had behaved very well about our engagement. He said to me, with a grave smile, when first he heard of it,--

'You have gained a friend, and I have lost one. I ought to be vexed, I suppose.'

'Oh no,' I replied; 'your friendship with him remains unchanged. You will find there will be no difference. I cannot be to him what you are, and if he does not spend quite so much time with you now as he has done, it will not always be so.'

But he turned away with a laugh and a shake of his head.

We were very quiet for some time after Philip's departure. Constance went away on a visit to Mr. Stroud's relatives. Kenneth went up to London, and as I was still far from strong, I was left to do very much as I liked, Nelly accompanying her mother when she went out. General Forsyth called me into his study one morning to have a talk over my future.

'Have you any idea in your own head when your marriage is to be? Has Stanton said anything to you about it?'

'I--I don't wish to hurry about it,' I said confusedly; 'he is willing to wait.'

'How long?' demanded my guardian shortly.

'Are you wanting to get rid of me?' I asked, a little vexed by his tone.

'Do not be so foolish!' was the reply. 'I intend, as I have told you before, to treat you as I should one of my daughters; but it seems to me that there is nothing to wait for. Constance is going to be married about Easter. I do not see why that time should not suit you.'

'Oh no,' I cried; and though I had resented them at the time, Miss Rayner's words came before me. 'I would rather wait longer; please let me, if it is not inconvenient to you.'

He said no more, but I wondered much if the Forsyths were relieved at the possibility of my leaving them soon. I said something of the sort to Nelly, who, of course, eagerly disclaimed it. 'Why, Hilda, we shall miss you awfully! I don't know what I shall do, unless I get engaged before you go. Fancy me being left here alone, the old maid of the family! I dare say I shall not marry. I have never seen a single man that I care for yet. Some one asked me the other day if I wasn't jealous of you! So ridiculous! I am sure I would be frightened out of my life by Mr. Stanton. I am very glad he picked upon you. You are just made for each other, you two! I wouldn't have him for my husband for worlds! Sometimes when he is thinking, he looks so severe and cold that he makes me shiver. Grace Dawkin said the other day that he looked like a man with a "dark past." Have you ever asked him about his past, Hilda? Because, really, we know very little about him. Hugh seems to know hardly anything. Mother is satisfied, because she knows he comes of a good family; but he may have murdered some one, or done anything, for all we know!'

I knew it was of no use being angry with Nelly, or I could have scolded her well for her way of talking; she always said out anything and everything that came into her head without a thought of whether her hearers would like it or not. There was a little difficulty at first about my taking my Sunday class again. Mrs. Forsyth had an objection to it, but she finally consented, and only forbade me to visit in any of the cottages if there was sickness. Roddy was well again, and no other cases of diphtheria had been heard of. I promised her I would be careful, and joyfully took up my work again, but found I missed Jim much more than I could have imagined. He had always been so helpful at the class, arranging the seats, keeping an eye on the very little ones, and guiding Kitty Brown to and fro. Poor Kitty missed him dreadfully.

'He never teased me, teacher, like the other boys do; he never said a cross word. I wish sometimes it had been me that was took; but I 'spose I'm not good enough.'

'I think Jesus, perhaps, wants you to do some work for Him that Jim couldn't,' I replied, answering her in much the same way I had been answered myself a short time before.

Here Roddy broke in. 'What's Jim doing, teacher? Mother says singin'

hymns. Won't he never get time to write a letter to me? I asked him to.'

'He is doing just what Jesus wants him to, Roddy. You mustn't expect a letter, but you will see him again one day, and that will be better than a letter.'

So the time slipped on, and writing so constantly to Philip and hearing from him in return, was my greatest consolation during his absence.

Twice he managed to come down for a couple of days, which were much enjoyed by us both; and then Easter drew near, and with it all the bustle attending the preparations for Constance's wedding. After it was over we were to go down to Cobham Hall, which was Philip's place, and stay there for three or four weeks, and Nelly as well as myself was greatly looking forward to it.

Two days before the wedding we were gathered, a large and merry party, in the drawing-room after dinner. Philip had come down that afternoon, but in spite of his pleasure at being with us again, I fancied he was ill at ease, and wondered at the cause.

'Now, Goody Two-Shoes,' Kenneth cried, when music was going on, 'give us something extra nice from your fiddle. Get into a dream over it, and make us all as dreamy as yourself.'

I took my violin up, and standing in my favourite position against one of the French windows I began to play. Everything that evening is stamped vividly upon my memory. I can see now the yellow jasmine outside the windows fluttering to and fro in the breeze, the lilacs and laburnums on the lawn sending some of their sweet fragrance through one of the half-opened doors, and the last rays of the 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 trust him through any amount of doubt or mystery, and I told him as much as we stood by the firelight together.

'I wish,' he said presently, 'that it was our wedding that was going to take place to-morrow; and yet I don't know--perhaps it will be best for you that it is not.'

A heavy sigh followed, and then we were both startled by the appearance of a servant.

'A telegram, sir.'

Philip took it and turned to me.

'I must leave you. Darling child, don't look so distressed. I am vexed that I should have to go before the wedding, but it is imperative that I should. I must write and tell you my movements when I know them. I shall just catch the 10.30 train to town if I go at once.

Hilda, say good-bye to me here before I go to the drawing-room. Trust me, little one, and pray for me.'

I clung to him, for I still felt the shadow of a dark cloud hovering over us. 'Why need you go? Where are you going? When are you coming back again? We were to have travelled to your home together. Don't go till you have told me more, Philip. You _must_ not leave me like this!'

He looked surprised at my vehemence. 'Dear child, you are overwrought.

I shall be back in a few days at the most, I hope. Good-bye, my darling; God bless you and keep you!' And taking me in his arms, he kissed me over and over again. I said no more, my tongue seemed tied, and he left me standing by the fire, feeling as if a great unknown trouble was settling down upon me.

I stayed there, heard his voice in the hall, and then a confused babel of questions and exclamations from the others. When, a few minutes later, I heard him leave the house, I flew upstairs to my room; I knew from my window I should see a bend of the road along which he must pass, and as I saw the trap driving rapidly along I leant out and waved my handkerchief. He saw my signal. I suppose the light in my room and the unclosed shutters to the windows helped him to do so, and taking up the lantern in front of the trap he waved it to me. Then came a knock at my door, and Mrs. Forsyth appeared. 'Do you know the reason of this sudden disappearance, Hilda? I do wish sometimes Mr. Stanton were a little more communicative.'

'It was a telegram,' I said, trying to speak quietly; 'only a matter of business, he said, but it obliged him to go to London immediately.'

'It is very annoying. I was quite counting on his presence to-morrow.

We seem to have such a scarcity of men. Are you not coming down to the drawing-room again?'

'I would rather not, please,' I said; for I felt I could not go through all the questions and remarks that would assail me.

Mrs. Forsyth did not stay, and I, trying to fight with the nameless fears in my heart, took refuge and comfort in prayer.