llow in tears was strange indeed.

Her uncle standing with his hand on his wife's shoulder had just spoken.
Turning to Leila, he said: "Your aunt and I have had some unpleasant news
from your uncles in Baltimore--a political quarrel."

"I knew it in the spring, Uncle Jim."

The girl's thoughtful reticence surprised him. Neither to him nor to Ann
had she said a word of this family feud.

"Thank you, Leila," murmured her aunt. The Squire wondered why, as her
aunt added, "I am greatly troubled. We have always been a most united
family; but, dear, this--this has brought home to me, as nothing else
has, the breaking up of the ties which bound the South and North
together. It is only the sign of worse things to come."

"But, Ann," said Penhallow, "I must say"--A sharp grip on his arm by
Leila's hand stopped him. He checked himself in time--"it is all very
sad, but neither you nor I can help it."

"That is too true, James. I should not have said what I did. I want to
see one of the men at the mills. His children are ill, his wife is in
great distress."

"I will drive you myself this morning. I will send Dixy away and order
the gig."

"Thank you; I shall like that, James."

Meanwhile Leila rode away, having in a moment of tactful interference
made her influence felt. She was well aware of it and smiled as she
walked her horse down the avenue, murmuring,

"I suppose I shall catch it from Uncle Jim." And then, "No, he will be
glad I pinched him, but he did look cross for a moment." No word of the
family dissension reached John in their ever cheerful letters.

On a wild windy afternoon in February, the snow falling heavily, Leila on
her way to the village rang at the Rector's door. Getting no answer, she
went in and passing through the front room knocked at the library door.

"Come in." Rivers was at his table in a room littered with books and
newspapers. The gentle smile of his usual greeting was missing. She saw
at once that he was in one of his moods of melancholy--rare of late. Her
eyes quick to see when she was interested noted that where he sat there
was neither book nor paper in front of him. He rose as she entered, tall,
stooping, lean, and so thin-featured that his large eyes were the more
notable.

"Aunt Ann has a cold, and Joe Grace was at the house to say that his
father is ill, and aunt wishes you to go with me and see what is wanted.
He has no way to send for the doctor; and so you see, as he is in bed