ised
visit to Mrs. Gallilee. He entered the room with gloomy looks; and made
his polite inquiries, as became a depressed musician, in the minor key.

"I am sorry, madam, to find you still on the sofa. Is there no
improvement in your health?"

"None whatever."

"Does your medical attendant give you any hope?"

"He does what they all do--he preaches patience. No more of myself! You
appear to be in depressed spirits."

Mr. Le Frank admitted with a sigh that appearances had not
misrepresented him. "I have been bitterly disappointed," he said. "My
feelings as an artist are wounded to the quick. But why do I trouble you
with my poor little personal affairs? I humbly beg your pardon."

His eyes accompanied this modest apology with a look of uneasy
anticipation: he evidently expected to be asked to explain himself.
Events had followed her instructions to Mr. Null, which left Mrs.
Gallilee in need of employing her music-master's services. She felt the
necessity of exerting herself; and did it--with an effort.

"You have no reason, I hope, to complain of your pupils?" she said.

"At this time of year, madam, I have no pupils. They are all out of
town."

She was too deeply preoccupied by her own affairs to trouble herself any
further. The direct way was the easy way. She said wearily, "Well, what
is it?"

He answered in plain terms, this time.

"A bitter humiliation, Mrs. Gallilee! I have been made to regret that
I asked you to honour me by accepting the dedication of my Song. The
music-sellers, on whom the sale depends, have not taken a tenth part of
the number of copies for which we expected them to subscribe. Has some
extraordinary change come over the public taste? My composition has
been carefully based on fashionable principles--that is to say, on the
principles of the modern German school. As little tune as possible;
and that little strictly confined to the accompaniment. And what is
the result? Loss confronts me, instead of profit--my agreement makes
me liable for half the expenses of publication. And, what is far more
serious in my estimation, your honoured name is associated with a
failure! Don't notice me--the artist nature--I shall be better in a
minute." He took out a profusely-scented handkerchief, and buried his
face in it with a groan.

Mrs. Gallilee's hard common sense understood the heart-broken composer
to perfection.

"Stupid of me not to have offered him money yesterday," she thought:
"this w