that I think she was playing
a comedy then, because after struggling at first she ended by remaining.
She gave up very suddenly. She collapsed in our arms, mine and the
maid's who came running up in response to my calls, and..."

"And the door was then shut," I completed the phrase in my own way.

"Yes, the door was shut," Mrs Fyne lowered and raised her head slowly.

I did not ask her for details. Of one thing I am certain, and that is
that Mrs Fyne did not go out to the musical function that afternoon.
She was no doubt considerably annoyed at missing the privilege of
hearing privately an interesting young pianist (a girl) who, since, had
become one of the recognised performers. Mrs Fyne did not dare leave
her house. As to the feelings of little Fyne when he came home from the
office, via his club, just half an hour before dinner, I have no
information. But I venture to affirm that in the main they were kindly,
though it is quite possible that in the first moment of surprise he had
to keep down a swear-word or two.

The long and the short of it all is that next day the Fynes made up
their minds to take into their confidence a certain wealthy old lady.
With certain old ladies the passing years bring back a sort of mellowed
youthfulness of feeling, an optimistic outlook, liking for novelty,
readiness for experiment. The old lady was very much interested: "Do
let me see the poor thing!" She was accordingly allowed to see Flora de
Barral in Mrs Fyne's drawing-room on a day when there was no one else
there, and she preached to her with charming, sympathetic authority:
"The only way to deal with our troubles, my dear child, is to forget
them. You must forget yours. It's very simple. Look at me. I always
forget mine. At your age one ought to be cheerful."

Later on when left alone with Mrs Fyne she said to that lady: "I do
hope the child will manage to be cheerful. I can't have sad faces near
me. At my age one needs cheerful companions."

And in this hope she carried off Flora de Barral to Bournemouth for the
winter months in the quality of reader and companion. She had said to
her with kindly jocularity: "We shall have a good time together. I am
not a grumpy old woman." But on their return to London she sought Mrs
Fyne at once. She had discovered that Flora was not naturally cheerful.
When she made efforts to be it was still worse. The old lady couldn't
stand the strain of that. And then, to have the