with Captain Sedgewick.

He seemed so thoroughly happy amongst them, and displayed such a perfect
sympathy with them in all things, that Gilbert Fenton was taken utterly
by surprise by his abrupt departure, which happened one day without a
word of warning. He had dined at the cottage on the previous evening, and
had been in his wildest, most reckless spirits--that mood to which he was
subject at rare intervals, and in which he exercised a potent fascination
over his companions. He had beguiled the little party at the cottage
into complete forgetfulness of the hour by his unwonted eloquence upon
subjects of a deeper, higher kind than it was his habit to speak about;
and then at the last moment, when the clock on the mantelpiece had struck
twelve, he had suddenly seated himself at the piano, and sung them
Moore's "Farewell, but whenever you welcome the hour," in tones that went
straight to the hearts of the listeners. He had one of those rare
sympathetic voices which move people to tears unawares, and before the
song was ended Marian was fairly overcome, and had made a hasty escape
from the room ashamed of her emotion.

Late as it was, Gilbert accompanied his friend for a mile of his homeward
route. He had secured a latch-key during his last visit to Lidford House,
and could let himself in quietly of a night without entrenching upon the
regular habits of Mrs. Lister's household.

Once clear of the cottage, John Saltram's gaiety vanished all in a
moment, and gave place to a moody silence which Gilbert was powerless to
dissipate.

"Is there anything amiss, Jack?" he asked. "I know high spirits are not
always a sign of inward contentment with you. Is there anything wrong