Still there was something about this boy that roused once more her musical hopes; and, however she may have restrained herself from the full indulgence of them, certain it is that the next day, when she saw Robert pass, this time leisurely, along the top of the garden, she put on her bonnet and shawl, and, allowing him time to reach his den, followed him, in the hope of finding out whether or not he could play.

I do not know what proficiency the boy had attained, very likely not much, for a man can feel the music of his own bow, or of his own lines, long before any one else can discover it.

He had already made a path, not exactly worn one, but trampled one, through the neglected grass, and Miss St.John had no difficulty in finding his entrance to the factory.
She felt a little eerie, as Robert would have called it, when she passed into the waste silent place; for besides the wasteness and the silence, motionless machines have a look of death about them, at least when they bear such signs of disuse as those that filled these rooms.

Hearing no violin, she waited for a while in the ground-floor of the building; but still hearing nothing, she ascended to the first floor.

Here, likewise, all was silence.