hile she satisfied her own appetite she
took care that her companion, who did not seem inclined to eat, made a
simple meal. Then she bundled the plates into a cupboard, and sat down
facing her.

"Well," she said, "you have broken down exactly as that throat
specialist said you would. The first question is, How long it will be
before you can go on again?"

Agatha laughed, a little harsh laugh. "I didn't tell you everything at
the time: I've broken down for good."

There was a moment or two's tense silence after that, and then Agatha
made a dejected gesture. "He warned me that this might happen if I
went on singing, but what could I do? I couldn't cancel my engagements
without telling people why. He said I must go to Norway and give my
throat and chest a rest."

They looked at one another, and there was in their eyes the
half-bitter, half-weary smile of those to whom the cure prescribed is
ludicrously impossible. It was Winifred who spoke first.

"Then," she said, "we have to face the situation, and it's not an
encouraging one. Our joint earnings just keep us here in decency--we
won't say comfort--and they're evidently to be subject to a big
reduction. It strikes me as a rather curious coincidence that a letter
from that man in Canada and one from your prosperous friends in the
country arrived just before you went out."

She saw the look in Agatha's eyes, and spread her hands out.

"Yes," she admitted; "I hid them. It seemed to me that you had quite
enough upon your mind this evening. I don't know if they're likely to
throw any fresh light upon the question what we're going to do."

She produced the letters from a drawer in her table, and Agatha
straightened herself suddenly in her chair when she had opened the
first of them.

"Oh," she cried, "he wants me to go out to him!"

Winifred's face set hard for a moment, but it relaxed again, and she
contrived to hide her dismay.

"Then," she suggested with a trace of dryness, "I suppose you'll
certainly go. After all, he's probably not worse to live with than
most of them."

Miss Rawlinson was occasionally a little bitter, but she had, like
others of her kind, been compelled to compete in an overcrowded market
with hard-driven men. She was, however, sincerely attached to her
friend, and she smiled when she saw the flash in Agatha's eyes.

"Oh," she added, "you needn't try to wither me with your indignation.
No doubt he's precisely what he ought to