"Thank Heaven, that is over!" she said. "I am tired to death of this senseless old practice! If we have it another year, I shall say I am ill and go to bed. Come, Enid--let us go to the drawing-room and have some music." The girl rose and followed obediently; but she vouchsafed no answer to Mrs. Vane's remarks. As the General had disappeared, Hubert thought that he too might as well accompany the ladies to the drawing-room, especially if Enid were about to play. But it did not seem that she was inclined to do so. She sat down in the darkest corner of the room, and leaned her head upon her hand. Flossy established herself in a luxurious lounging-chair, and took up a novel. Hubert hesitated for a moment or two, then went over to Enid's side. "Are we not to have any music to-night?" "Have you not had plenty?" she asked wearily. "Music! You call that music?" She did not answer; something in her voice, her attitude, seemed to show that she was shedding tears. He was intensely sorry for her trouble, whatever it might be; but he scarcely knew how to comfort her. "It would be good for us all if you would play," he said softly. "We want consoling--strengthening--uplifting." "Ah, but music does not always do that!" she answered, with a new note of passion in her voice. "When we are happy, music helps us--but not when we are sad." "Why not?" said Hubert, more from the desire to make her talk than from any wish to hear her views on that particular subject. But she spoke eagerly in reply, yet softly, so that her words should not reach the ears of the silent, graceful, languid woman by the fire. "I can't tell why," she said; "but everything is different. Once music delighted me, even when I was a little sad; but now it seems to harrow my very soul. It brings thoughts into my mind of all the misery of the world. If I hear music, I shed tears--I don't know why. Everything is changed." "My dear child," said Hubert, "you are unhappy!" "Yes," she said slowly, with a pathetic tremor of the voice--"yes, I am very--very unhappy." "Can I do nothing at all to make you happier?" he said. The question was left unanswered. CHAPTER XX. "My dear Hubert," said Mrs. Vane, "if you cannot see what is the matter with Enid, you must be blind indeed!" "Why should I see what is the matter with her more than anybody else?" asked Hubert, who was moving restlessly from place to place, now halting before the window of his sister's sitting-room, now plucking a leaf from one of the flowering plants in a gilded _étagère_, now teasing the white cockatoo in its fine cage, or stirring up the spaniel with the tip of his boot. All the teasing was good-naturedly done, and provoked no rancour in the mind of bird or beast; but it showed an unwonted excitement of feeling on his part, and was observed by his sister with a slightly ironical smile.