A gloomy presentiment of impending evil weighed down her heart.

Her husband made little effort to rouse her--the contagious gloom affected him, too.
"It is the weather, I dare say," he remarked, looking out at the bleak, wintery day, the leaden sky, the wailing wind.

"This February gloom is enough to give a man the megrims.

I must face it, too, for to-day I 'meet the captains at the citadel'-- that is to say, I promised to ride over to Major Warden's about noon.

You will be ready, Harrie, when I return to accompany me to The Grange ?" She promised, and he departed; and then Lady Kingsland ascended to her own apartment.
While she stood there, gazing at the gray desolation of the February morning, there was a soft tap at the door.
"Come in!" she said, thinking it her maid; and the door opened, and Sybilla Silver entered.
Lady Kingsland faced round and looked at her.