d aside.

"There is an understanding between us, Cecily. Don't break it."

"But I told you my mood was wicked. I feel disposed to break any and
every undertaking. I should like to fret and torment and offend you. I
should like to ask you why _I_ am allowed to enjoy the sunshine, and
you not? _Oggi e festa_! What a dreadful sound that must have in your
ears Miriam!"

"But they don't apply it to Sunday," returned the other, who seemed to
resign herself to this teasing.

"Indeed they do!" With a sudden change of subject, Cecily added, "Your
brother came to see us yesterday, to say good-bye."

"Did he?"

"It doesn't interest you. You care nothing where he goes, or what he
does--nothing whatever, Miriam. He told me so; but I knew it already."

"He told you so?" Miriam asked, with cold surprise.

"Yes. You are unkind; you are unnatural."

"And you, Cecily, are childish. I never knew you so childish as to-day."

"I warned you. He and I had a long talk before aunt came home."

"I'm sorry he should have thought it necessary to talk about himself."

"What more natural, when he is beginning a new portion of life? Never
mind; we won't speak of it. May I play you a new piece I have learnt?"

"Do you mean, of sacred music?"

"Sacred? Why, all music is sacred. There are tunes and jinglings that I
shouldn't call so; but neither do I call them music, just as I
distinguish between bad or foolish verse, and poetry. Everything worthy
of being called art is sacred. I shall keep telling you that till in
self-defence you are forced to think about it. And now I shall play the
piece whether you like it or not."

She opened the piano. What she had in mind was one of the "Moments
Musicaux" of Schubert--a strain of exquisite melody, which ceased too
soon. Cecily sat for a few moments at the key-board after she had
finished, her head bent; then she came and stood before Miriam.

"Do you like it?"

There was no answer. She looked steadily at the trouble a ace, and, as
it still kept averted from her, she laid her arms softly, half
playfully, about Miriam's neck.

"Why must there always be such a distance between us, Miriam dear? Even
when I seem so near to you as this, what a deep black gulf really
separates us!"

"You were once on my side of it" said Miriam, her voice softened. "How
did you pass to the other?"

"How could I tell you? No one read me lectures, or taught me hard
arguments. The change came insensibly, like passi