At first, Hilda saw only the apple and plum trees; but as they came clear of these, there was the house, standing back behind a wide lawn and sunny flower-beds. Grey enough it looked, in the pale, cold moonlight, except where ivy or Virginian creepers had mantled its high-pointed gables and hoary walls. The moon shone full upon the front, showing many small-paned windows, and a deep porch leading into a low-ceiled, spacious hall, in which a lamp was burning, casting a pleasant reflection upon the gravel path and the dewy grass beyond. Some one was standing at the open door-some one clad in a dark, Quaker-like costume, with stiff grey curls pinned up under a stiff white cap; surely this must be Aunt Dorothy! Tired as she was, and sick with exhaustion-for she had eaten nothing since a hurried breakfast Hilda's heart beat strongly with excitement, not unmingled with apprehension, as she gazed on the tall, stately figure in the doorway; on the stranger-kinswoman, who, for the present, at least, must be the arbitress of her sad fortunes. "Welcome! Niece Hilda," said Mrs. Dorothy, in cold and measured tones, as the almost frozen and utterly weary girl was half-lifted from the carriage in the strong arms of Jacob, who seemed now quite an old friend. And Hilda's passive hand was taken, and a formal though not unkindly kiss imprinted on her forehead; while the mistress of the Grey House went on to say, "Thou art miserably cold, Hilda, and, I doubt not, much fatigued; come into the dining-room, and take off thy wraps; tea has been awaiting thee this half-hour; it is a toilsome drive across our moors, after a long railway journey.” Hilda would much have preferred to go straight to her chamber and to bed, without making any regular meal, but she felt constrained to obey the commanding voice and the rather imperative gesture which pointed to the warm and lighted room at the far side of the hall. She followed her aunt submissively, though her limbs were so cramped she could only move with difficulty; and truly she was glad to see and to feel the noble fire that glowed in a vast, old-fashioned grate, such as Hilda had never seen before. "Sit thee down," said Mrs. Dorothy, pointing to a chair drawn up on the hearth. "Barker," turning to a prim serving-woman, who looked as tall and stately, and almost as old, as her mistress, "just move the chair further back -about three-quarters of a yard further back. Miss Hilda is too thoroughly chilled to bear, all at once, the heat of that large fire. Sudden warmth sometimes induces faintness. I hope thou art not one of the fainting sort, child. Thou lookest but a poor, peaky thing; thou hast outgrown thy strength perchance." "I never fainted in my life," said Hilda, a little hurriedly. "I am tired, and cold, and, I think, hungry. I am never ill, though I have had the headache lately." "I am glad to hear it. Drink this tea; it is strong, and not too hot, and it will revive thee. Tell Nancy to bring in the chicken, Barker, and see that my niece's room is quite ready for her; she will be glad to retire as soon as she has broken her fast." After all, considering her long abstinence, Hilda made but a scanty meal, or, perhaps, she was "too far gone," as people say, to relish the homely, but appetising food set before her, and she was rejoiced to hear her aunt say, "Then, if thou wilt take no more, Hilda, Barker shall show thee to thy chamber, and unpack what thou needest for to-night. I will not keep thee up for worship, for I see that thou art really over-tired. As to breakfast, thou shalt have it in thy room to-morrow morning; I do not hold with such indulgences, and, as a rule, I require that all my household assemble themselves in this room for worship at exactly a quarter to eight o'clock. But for once, I give thee leave to take thy fill of sleep, since thou appearest to need it. When thou wishest for breakfast, ring thy bell. Now, good-night; I wish thou mayest sleep well." The formal kiss was not repeated; only a slight touch of hands passed between the stately old lady and her grand-niece, and the latter thankfully followed her guide upstairs, and along a low, crooked, and vaulted passage to the chamber allotted her. She was rather surprised to find no fire and no toilet candles, but she was too tired to wonder or speculate about anything. Only, as she laid her head upon the pillow, she remembered that Mrs. Dorothy had twice spoken of " worship." What could she mean? "Ah!" she said to herself, "Aunt Mowbray said she was a Methodist, but she looks to me more like a Quakeress." Hilda was lulled to sleep by the sound of distant psalmody. 66 "Palms of glory, raiment bright, Gird and deck the saints in light, Priests, and kings, and conquerors they." AND when Hilda awoke the next morning the music was still in her ears. She listened. Some one was playing a solemn hymn-tune on a small but sweet-toned organ-she had noticed one in a recess of the dining-room the evening before-and several voices, male and female, were singing to it. Had the " worship" gone on all night, then? By degrees Hilda comprehended that this was the morning worship," to which Mrs. Dorothy had alluded. She had slept unbrokenly through the hours of darkness, and now the sunshine was streaming into the room, birds were twittering, fowls were clucking in the poultry-yard near at hand; a cow, not very far off, had something on her mind, and lowed continuously. There was also a rustle of leaves without, and presently there was a gabble of geese; a wasp was buzzing against the window-pane-all country sounds reminding Hilda that London lay many miles away, and that an immeasurable distance separated the old life that had ended yesterday from the strange, new, unfamiliar career that began to-day. The music ceased, and Hilda, now thoroughly awakened, looked about her. She was lying in a capacious, oldfashioned four-poster, that somehow reminded her of an ancient family coach; the hangings were of faded chintz, the counterpane was a wonderful device of many-coloured octahedrons, with a choice centre-piece, displaying the washed-out features of the Princess Charlotte, surrounded by the dates-almost illegible-of her Royal Highness's birth and marriage. But the sheets which Hilda pressed were of the finest linen, white as snow, and smelling of dried rose-leaves and lavender; half-a-dozen damask towels awaited her pleasure on the folding towel-horse; the toilet-cover was deeply ornamented with long, knotted fringe, clearly of home manufacture; and a huge pincushion, frilled and flounced like a fine lady's petticoat, filled the centro of the table, on which were no modern powder-pots, nor crystal scent-bottles, but only a book on each side of the filagree-framed looking-glass, one of which Hilda shrewdly conjectured must be a Bible. What the other might be she could not even guess, but something pious," she was very well assured. room was low-ceiled, and crossed by two uneven beams; the three windows were draped with curtains that matched the dull chintz of the bed-hangings; a venerable walnut-wood wardrobe occupied the wall opposite two of the windows, and the chimney-piece, about three inches wide, over which was the portrait of a lady pastorally attired, simpering at a flute-playing swain upon an impossible bank of flowers, was exactly opposite the bed. All the rest of the furniture corresponded, even to the embroidered, olive-green, velvet bell-pull, with an elaborate brass handle, and a huge, nearly colourless, rosette of what had once been quilted green satin, concealing its junction with the bell-wire. Hilda wondered whether she had awakened in the celebrated era of the Regency; all her surroundings appeared to be so many years older than herself. 66 66 The Presently she could hear a little bustle downstairsprobably the servants dispersing at the conclusion of the worship." Then a bell was rung, but not loudly—the breakfast bell, no doubt, sounded according to daily usage and Hilda began to think she would enjoy a cup of tea herself. Her night's sleep had refreshed her, and she would have liked to get up at once, and dress quickly, and go down to breakfast, but she did not venture to disobey the commands she had received; therefore, after a few moments' hesitation, she pulled the green velvet bellrope, and waited to see who would answer to her summons. In a short time the person called Barker appeared, with a tray in her hand—a common japanned tray, very different from the dainty Rose du Barri china affairs to which Hilda had been accustomed. But the ugly iron tray was covered with the finest of spotless napkins, and the small, melon-shaped teapot was of solid silver. Mrs. Dorothy despised electro, and patronised simple earthenware in the absence of the genuine metal; the tiny cream-jug was also of silver, and, like the teapot, an antique. As for the china, it was old and ugly enough for a connoisseur. Barker placed the tray on the table, and grimly demanded how Miss Capel had slept. Miss Capel could only reply that she had slept quite soundly, and was much refreshed, and she hoped Mrs. Dorothy was well. Quite well," responded the waiting-woman; "my mistress is always well, thank God!" Barker spoke in a tone indicative of her disapproval of people who were so inconsiderate as to be occasionally unwell. Ill-health, in her opinion, unless caused by accident, proceeded entirely from luxurious and self-indulgent habits. She had a profound contempt for any one who breakfasted in bed, or in a bedroom, and she heartily believed in cold water, and plenty of it. Nothing but tea and bread and butter was on the tray; but oh, such butter, such bread, such thick, rich, unadulterated cream! Hilda innocently wondered how much per quart her aunt gave for that "wonderful double cream," about which Mrs. Mowbray's cook used to make so much fuss, and the price of which had always been considered rather exorbitant, even in that easy-going, extravagant household at Kensington Gore. Her breakfast was soon over, and then she dressed expeditiously, not waiting for the usual can of hot water, and not caring to ring for it, lest her request should be denied or treated as extraordinary. When she drew up the blinds she was astonished to find how wide a prospect her windows commanded. Two of them |