“I shall remember those kind words, Miss Fairlie, long after tomorrow has come and gone.”

The paleness grew whiter on her face, and she turned it farther away from me.

“Don’t speak of tomorrow,” she said. “Let the music speak to us of tonight, in a happier language than ours.”

Her lips trembled⁠—a faint sigh fluttered from them, which she tried vainly to suppress. Her fingers wavered on the piano⁠—she struck a false note, confused herself in trying to set it right, and dropped her hands angrily on her lap. Miss Halcombe and Mr. Gilmore looked up in astonishment from the card-table at which they were playing. Even Mrs. Vesey, dozing in her chair, woke at the sudden cessation of the music, and inquired what had happened.