ntry cottage she had
always meant to have. She came back in the spirits of a child who has a
new toy. Harry was to go and look at it at once.

"And what do you think I have done? I have telegraphed to that poor
Rosamond Fayre to come down here on Monday morning. I am going to give
her a commission--to paint my cottage garden. She is rather good at
gardens--I mean she is better at gardens."

It was useless to raise any objection, and Harry felt convinced Rosamond
would not come. So he said it was rather a good idea, and discussed
gravely the improvements his wife meant to make at the cottage.

"You see," she said, "I must make it comfortable."

A little later the telegram arrived from Rosamond: "Very many thanks.
Will come by the train you suggest."

Harry met that train at his wife's suggestion.

"Why did you come?" he asked Rosamond anxiously.

"Didn't you want to see me?"

"I always want to see you, but the position is too horrible."

"I know it is difficult, but in three days now it will all be over, and
we shall be at peace together. Meanwhile, if I refuse to meet Grace, she
will think--oh, she may think anything. Come on. Take me to the
cottage."

Harry made an excuse to leave the two women alone there together. He
would be back in an hour. And in a little more than an hour he was
walking back to the station with Rosamond and his wife. There was only
just time to catch Rosamond's train. But it was all right, so Grace
said; there was a short cut across the line. They would be there in
time. And then Grace made a terrible discovery. She had left the key of
the cottage in the door. Harry must run back and fetch it, or the people
who were letting her the cottage would consider she was not a
responsible person.

Harry tried the door of the cottage to see that it was locked, put the
key in his pocket, and ran after them. They had reached the crossing
now, but were standing still. He could not at first make out what it was
they were doing. Rosamond then bent down to her shoe, and Harry realised
what had happened. The shoe had got wedged in the points, and she would
have to take her foot out of it to get free.

And then he heard the scream of the whistle, and dashed forward.

He managed to save one of the two women. It was Grace.

The moment had revealed him to himself. He had made his choice.

THE PIANO-TUNER

CHAPTER I

Miss Caterham was forty-five, and said so, and looked it. She wore blac