Johnstone of the Border by Harold Bindloss

There was a touch of frost in the still air and the light was fading. A yellow glow lingered in the southwest beyond Criffell's sloping shoulder, which ran up against it, tinged a deep violet. Masses of soft, gray cloud floated above the mountain's summit; but the sky was clear overhead, and a thin new moon grew brighter in the east This was why the murmur of the sea came out of the distance in a muffled roar, for the tides run fast when the moon is young.

Elsie, walking homeward, vacantly noticed how bright the crescent gleamed above the dusky firs, as she entered the gloom of a straggling wood at the foot of the hill on which Appleyard was built. She had been out all the afternoon and now she shrank from going home, for she felt that a shadow rested upon the house. Dick had returned from a cruise with Andrew, looking dejected and unwell; and she was glad that Whitney had taken both away again, on his motorcycle, because Dick had lately had fits of moody restlessness when he was at home. Still, she missed them badly, for her mother was silent and preoccupied; and when Andrew was away, she found it hard to banish the troubles that seemed to be gathering round. They were worse for being very vaguely defined, but she felt convinced that something sinister was going on.