Here, as over her book in the afternoon, the absent fit came upon her.

Her fingers had rested idly on the keyboard for some minutes, when they began to touch solemn chords, and at length there sounded the first notes of a homely strain, one of the most familiar of the Church's hymns.

It ceased abruptly; Lilian rose and went to another part of the room.
A few minutes later her ear caught the sound for which she was now waiting--that of a latch-key at the front door.

She stepped quickly out into the passage, where the lamp-light fell upon a tall and robust man with dark, comely, bearded visage.
"Poor little girl!" he addressed her, affectionately, as he pulled off his overcoat.

"I couldn't help it, Lily; bound to stay." "Never mind!" was her laughing reply, as she stood on tip-toe and drew down his face to hers.