Alas! They seemed all under a spell, while the cloud of destiny came on, and on. A gloom settled on their hearth that nothing could dispel, a deep darkness stole through the house that neither sunlight nor firelight could brighten, a coldness gathered in their home that neither sun heat nor fire heat could warm, a silence fell around them that music itself could not break—moral gloom, moral darkness, moral cold, moral silence. The darkness, the shadow of the overhanging cloud of impending fate; the silence, the stillness that precedes the earthquake, while the fires rage and leap beneath; the awful stillness of the coming typhoon. CHAPTER XXX. TREACHERY. “He, in whom My heart had treasured all its boast and pride, Proves faithless.” EURIPIDES’ MEDEA. It was the first of November; a Sabbath day; it had rained all night; the dawn of morning found the rain still pouring down in torrents; it was a dark, dark day; _so_ dark that a twilight gloom hung over all the rooms; so cold and wet that a damp chill pervaded the house. The family met at breakfast in the back drawing-room; a good fire had been kindled, but neither the cheerful fire nor the exhilarating coffee, could raise the spirits of the little party. Hagar was wretchedly pale and haggard; Raymond’s gaiety was so evidently assumed as not to be mistaken, even by the unsuspicious Rosalia. Rose looked from one to the other in unconcealable distress. Seeing that Raymond tried to make himself agreeable, while Hagar fully indulged her gloom, Rose again, as usual, settled it in her own mind that Hagar was the offending, and Raymond the suffering party. When they arose from the table, when Raymond walked to the front drawing-room window and stood there looking out upon the black sky and pouring rain, and when Hagar rising withdrew from the room and went up stairs, Rose looked around in perplexity, in a sort of sad lostness, not knowing what to do with herself, scarce feeling able to keep her feet, for loneliness and dreariness. At length with sudden inspiration she ran up stairs to seek Hagar. She entered her bed-chamber without knocking, and found her seated alone by the window, in an attitude of deep dejection. She went up to her, and throwing her arms around her neck, burst into tears, weeping freely over her shoulder. Hagar quietly disengaged her arms, and gently pushed her off. Rosalia sank upon a cushion at her feet, and dropping her head upon her lap, sobbed out—