ss; and in its place was a hard,
assertive look, the look of one who, having been once worsted in a bout
with Fate, through no fault of his own, was determined for the future to
keep a sharp lookout for his own interests and well-being.

That it was a stronger face there was no denying, but it was also a far
less attractive one than that which Bruce Cheniston, the boy, had
presented to the world.

At another moment Anstice would have found occasion for interested
speculation in the question as to whether or no this new man were the
real Bruce Cheniston--the Cheniston who would eventually have come to
the surface no matter how his life had been ordained; and as a
psychologist he would have found pleasure in debating the subject in all
its aspects. But as things were he was too miserably conscious that to
him, indirectly, this change from boy to man was due to take any
interest in the subtler question as to whether, after all, the
alteration was only the logical outcome of the man's true character,
uninfluenced by external happenings.

* * * * *

"No." Cheniston spoke so suddenly that Anstice started. "On the whole I
see no reason why my sister need be told the truth. Of course, one day
the similarity of name may flash upon her, and then, naturally, she must
be told."

"Quite so." Anstice played with an empty glass for a moment. "As a
matter of fact I should really prefer Mrs. Carstairs to know the truth.
Of course the decision rests with you; but if you see your way to
telling her the story, pray don't be held back from doing so by any
scruples on my account. Besides----"

Suddenly, so suddenly that he broke off involuntarily in his sentence,
the notes of the piano rang out from the room across the hall, and
without thinking what he did he rose hastily to his feet.

"Miss Wayne is going to sing." Cheniston followed his lead politely.
"Shall we go and listen to the concert, Anstice?"

"As you like. Forgive my abruptness, Cheniston." He had realized he had
acted unconventionally. "Miss Wayne's singing is a treat one doesn't
want to lose."

With a queer little smile Cheniston led the way across the hall, and
they entered the drawing-room, Iris bringing her prelude to a close as
the door opened to admit them.

"Come and sit down, Dr. Anstice." Chloe indicated a deep chair beside
the piano, and nothing loth, Anstice sat down as directed, while
Cheniston, his face a little in sha