Seldom have my forebodings gone unverified--possibly because I am not superstitious, and they are usually founded upon some more or less clearly realized cause. I had not been home a quarter of an hour till I felt that something had gone wrong; that the usual sweet and serene home atmosphere was impregnated with an illusive element of discord. Every one capable of the finer shades of feeling has experienced, doubtless, the subtle influence of an atmosphere, surcharged with carefully hidden emotion that yet jars each soul, and sets all nerves a-quiver. Not always, however, is there present a serene, commanding spirit, which can dissipate the threatened storm, by tact and the sunshine of genial graciousness.
So did Ellen, being for a while my mother's guest, during Aunt Martha's absence at a famed medicinal spring. My father, strangely stern and silent, after his first hearty greeting for me, and courteous one for his latest guest, would warm into fitful geniality under Ellen's blandishments, mother's face lose its look of anxious distress, Jean dimple and brighten in the old way, and Buford relax somewhat his air of dignity and reserve.
Yet the cause of the evident gloom hanging over the household was, on the second day after my return, still a mystery; the entire family seemed to have entered into a tacit agreement to withhold it from me, and each one carefully avoided a private interview. For a while it defied guessing even; I could only surmise that Nelly's presence had complicated the situation, and was to some extent the reason for my exclusion from the family confidence. From the first hour I had seen that Ellen was surprised by Nelly's manner to me, though I alone guessed her unconscious resentment, noting the expression of it through an added flush to her cheeks, a slightly more erect attitude of her head, and a firmer tone in her voice. Mother, too, had presently observed Nelly's apparently unconscious appropriation of me, and watched us both anxiously; then Buford seemed to note it, looked annoyed, and exchanged a quick glance of mingled despair and tender assurance with Jean. That intercepted glance gave me my first hint, and I longed more than ever to get Ellen alone, and to ask the score of questions that hung upon my lips.