Tom owned the violin. The cousins united in the declaration that he
had no musical ability, but Aunt Faith stood by him, and even
encouraged his spasmodic attempts to find the tune. His favorite air
was "Nelly Bly." On this he would progress satisfactorily until he
came to "Hi," when he was sure to waver. "Hi," E flat; "Hi," E
natural; "Hi," F natural; and finally, when all within hearing were
driven nearly to frenzy, out would come the missing F sharp, and the
tune go on triumphantly to its close.

The breakfast table at the old stone house was always a pleasant
scene; Aunt Faith presided behind the coffee urn, and before the meal
was over, the postman came with letters and papers, which caused
another half hour of pleasant loitering. This morning Sibyl had her
usual heap,--letters from various schoolmates, and one from Mrs.
Leighton, her relative in Washington, which seemed to be full of
interest. Aunt Faith also had several letters, and Bridget handed one
to Bessie,--a large, yellow envelope, whose ill-formed address
attracted general curiosity. "I say, Bess, who's your friend?" said
Tom.

"Never mind," answered his cousin, with flushing cheeks, as she put
the unopened letter into her pocket and went on hastily with her
breakfast. Hugh, who had entered a moment before, glanced at Bessie,
and then diverted the attention by a word-assault upon his sister.
"What a mass of writing, Sibyl," he began, stretching out his hand;
"I'll help you to read it. That rose-colored sheet will do; the one
crossed over four times." But Sibyl quietly secured her correspondence,
and went on with her reading. "Does she tell you what she wore at the
last ball, dear? Was it blue, with rose ruffles, or pink with green
puffles," continued Hugh. Sibyl smiled; her temper was never disturbed