life. And the idea that others probably knew
things concerning which they did not choose to mention, set up in him a
premature reserve which helped to intensify his inward experience. His
ears open now to words which before that July day would have passed by
him unnoted; and round every trivial incident which imagination could
connect with his suspicions, a newly-roused set of feelings were ready
to cluster themselves.

One such incident a month later wrought itself deeply into his life.
Daniel had not only one of those thrilling boy voices which seem to
bring an idyllic heaven and earth before our eyes, but a fine musical
instinct, and had early made out accompaniments for himself on the
piano, while he sang from memory. Since then he had had some teaching,
and Sir Hugo, who delighted in the boy, used to ask for his music in
the presence of guests. One morning after he had been singing "Sweet
Echo" before a small party of gentlemen whom the rain had kept in the
house, the baronet, passing from a smiling remark to his next neighbor
said:

"Come here, Dan!"

The boy came forward with unusual reluctance. He wore an embroidered
holland blouse which set off the rich coloring of his head and throat,
and the resistant gravity about his mouth and eyes as he was being
smiled upon, made their beauty the more impressive. Every one was
admiring him.

"What do you say to being a great singer? Should you like to be adored
by the world and take the house by storm; like Mario and Tamberlik?"

Daniel reddened instantaneously, but there was a just perceptible
interval before he answered with angry decision--

"No; I should hate it!"

"Well, well, well!" said Sir Hugo, with surprised kindliness intended
to be soothing. But Daniel turned away quickly, left the room, and
going to his own chamber threw himself on the broad window-sill, which
was a favorite retreat of his when he had nothing particular to do.
Here he could see the rain gradually subsiding with gleams through the
parting clouds which lit up a great reach of the park, where the old
oaks stood apart from each other, and the bordering wood was pierced
with a green glade which met the eastern sky. This was a scene which
had always been part of his home--part of the dignified ease which had
been a matter of course in his life. And his ardent clinging nature had
appropriated it all with affection. He knew a great deal of what it was
to be a gentleman by inheritance, and wi