From this time the improvement in Matilda’s character was much more steady; her warm affection for her sister and Leila daily increased, and she seemed now to have no wish beyond the enjoyment of their society. They were a most happy little trio; but days of trial were at hand, and sorrow about to visit their young hearts in an unexpected form. Charles was now at home for the Midsummer holidays, and had come over to pass the Saturday at Woodlands; he certainly was somewhat taller than before, but Leila seemed rather to think it an improvement, and she met him with all the frank gladness of her happy age. There was so little of the rough school-boy in Charles, and so much of the gentle kind friend, that Leila had learnt to look up to him with a feeling of happy security; he never flattered her in asking advice; she was always sure of hearing the truth from him unbiassed by any previous opinion expressed on her side. She told him that an accident had happened to the precious plant intended for him; but she entered into no details, and he promised to be patient, and to await the coming up of the other seeds. They had not been long together when he inquired for his friend Peggy Dobie, and Leila proposed that they should cross the lawn together and visit her at her cottage; they were sure of finding her in her garden, she said, for Peggy had told her that her bees were about to swarm, and that she must watch them closely. Never had Leila looked more joyous than when she tied on her bonnet to accompany Charles; her cheeks were glowing with health, her eyes bright with intelligence, and the feelings of hopeful, trusting, happy youth were visible in every expression of her sweet countenance. It had been the loveliest of summer mornings, and at first so elastic was Leila’s step, that she seemed to tread on air; she proposed to lengthen their walk by first mounting one of the high fields from which the view was particularly fine; but by the time they had gained the height, they felt the heat of the sun overcoming, and in descending were glad to avail themselves of the shelter of the wood. The bright sunshine, however, which they had wished to avoid, now suddenly gave way to dark lurid clouds; the air became very close and oppressive; there was a dull moaning sound amongst the trees, as if the wind were about to rise, and as they entered the wood the sweet singing of the birds was hushed; they were darting rapidly to and fro amongst the branches in constant uneasy motion, as if danger were at hand. Charles looked anxiously at the great masses of fiery-looking clouds which were now driven along by a strong current of upper air. Leila caught the anxious expression of his face. “Why do you look so frightened, Charles?” she said. “I like these sudden changes, they are very good; don’t walk so quick,--let us stop for a moment and watch those magnificent clouds.” “No, Leila, no; let us hasten home; I fear we shall have a storm.”